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Chapter One
The letter arrived with the quiet finality of a whisper on a Thursday morning, tucked inside a pale green envelope the color of fading mint. It bore no return address—only a single, delicate script spelling out the name "Jace Richardson," and a postmark from somewhere deep in Brookhaven
It came from the heart of Daryl, a place of sweet tea, college football, and legends old and new. And though it looked unassuming, its presence was anything but. The envelope's texture was refined, almost elegant—like something pulled from a forgotten drawer in a Southern attic.
The sender was Elena Marlowe, a tenacious reporter with a reputation for digging where others feared to tread. She had once penned the biography of the venerable, now-retired sports legend Chad Boaobit, and her words were known to shake foundations.
What she had written this time was enough to turn the air brittle in the Rawlins household. A single sheet of stationery, polite but piercing, calling for something no one expected: a gathering. A reckoning.
At the long dining table, the Richardson family took their places—each member bearing the weight of old silences. Drake Richardson, just sixteen, sat at his usual spot to the left of his grandmother, Rory. She held court at the head of the table, her expression unreadable. On her right was Tate, And beside Tate sat Jace, his half-brother too, eyes darting nervously. The air between them bristled with the absence of fathers. None of the boys had ever really known theirs. And as for Drake's mother—well, she had never quite belonged.
Whatever the letter contained, it wasn't just ink on paper. It was a match. And something in the Richardson home had been waiting a long time to burn. They were small and not exactly traditional but they were close.
Everyone wore the same somber look except Rory, who looked guilty, worried, and ashamed. So far she hadn't said a word, hadn't even hinted at what she wanted, except for this whole mess to go away.
But Elena Marlowe wasn't going away easily. To make matters worse, she would be appearing on their doorstep first thing tomorrow morning, and she wasn't leaving until, one way or the other, Jace gave her the information she wanted. That was a point she'd written in the last line of the letter.
A threat to Tate's way of thinking. "well?" Jace prodded. Tate felt three pairs of brown eyes identical to his own looking at him. While they waited for him to resuscitate himself, they'd hatched a plan for dealing with the reporter or journalist. No, a plan for Tate to deal with the journalist. Jace and Rory had already made plans before the letter's arrival to spend the next few weeks at her parent's place down in southern Mariston, and they needed to go ahead. Grandpop had broken his lead four days ago, and Gran was convinced she could run the household herself, and the rest of the family wasn't about to let her prove it.
Let me help Grandpop, Tate had suggested and Jace could handle Ms Brookhaven. Even Drake has winced at the idea. Josh wasn't the most cautious or even-tempered person around. Rory excused his behavior as impulsive. Grandpop said he'd let his mouth run without engaging his brain first. In his twenty-five years of life. He'd sometimes talked his way into more trouble than Tate could get him out of. He'd gotten the two of them suspended from school. Thrown out of bars and, on a few occasions, thrown into jail. There was no telling what kind of trouble he would stir up with the nosy reporter. All because of a stupid affair Rory had had thirty years ago.
Tate shifted his face to his mother "What do you want me to do?". My gaze dropped to the tabletop, but not before he caught another glimpse of the guilt in her eyes. "this has to be your decision."
His decision, when he was the one least affected by Brookhaven snooping. Jace was the reporter's prime target, and Rory came next; Tate and Drake were only of interest in that they were family.
" Why don't you on down to Grand pop's, and when she comes, I'll tell her you're not around and won't be back for several weeks.".
"Read the letter again, Tate," Jace said angrily. The part about staying as long as it takes. Besides how hard would it be to find out where we've gone from someone in town? Do you want her showing up unannounced at Gran's?
No, Tate admitted silently. To this date, the mere mention of Royce Butler's name would make Anna Richardson go mad. With Grandpop in the hospital, the last thing she needed was Elena Marlowe's questions about the bastard child.
Jace's chair scraped the floor as he stood up. "Can I talk to you outside?". Tate followed him onto the porch; it was a miserable day; they hadn't had rain in more than a month, and things were likely to get worse before they got better. Hell had nothing on EastVale in August.
Jace rested his hand on the steel corps and started at the horses in the pasture across the yard. " look I know you don't want to do this, I know it's sneaky and underhanded but she's not playing Exactly fair either" I told her I wanted no part of her project, I told her politely than I told her rudely and she's coming here anyway. I don't owe her anything else, and Mom, for damn sure, doesn't owe her anything. Now it's time to look out for our best interests".
For an instant, the tightness in Tates's chest made it difficult to breathe; lying to a stranger, impersonating his brother. It was wrong, and he wouldn't consider it for an instant if his brother's privacy and his mother's reputation weren't at stake. If his son weren't at risk of getting affection by the scandal.
But Elena Marlowe was nothing if not persistent; she'd been harassing Jace for months, wanting his cooperation for her book; she'd call, but he'd turned her down, hung up on her, and ignored her messages. She'd written, and he'd written back once –"No thanks, I'm not interested"– then returned her following letters unopened, But none of them had stopped her from making the trip from Brookhaven to EastVale.
And why shouldn't she be persistent? Given Royce's political power, his wealth his family's penchant for scandals, and Austria people's penchant for gossip, the book would be bound for the bestseller lists. She stood to make a huge sum of money by exposing Tate's family to ridicule.
But maybe he could minimize the damage. As if he sensed Tate was wavering, Jace asked, "How much effort do you think Ms Brookhaven will Make to be fair, he handpicked her to write the book. You can be damned sure everything will be skewed to make him out to be the good guy. She'll say Mom–" With a glance towards the house, as if Rory could hear through the solid walls, He broke off, but he didn't need to go on.
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