Behind the White Walls

I got back to Lloyd's place at the stroke of twelve.

Still, my phone was as quiet as a graveyard.

The Lloyd house was all lit up, laughter and music spilling out into the night.

I did not ask them why.

If the maid had not opened the door, I might have just stayed out there forever.

"You look a mess! And your clothes are filthy."

Janet did not pull any punches when she saw me.

My mom, Harriet Yates, looked at me, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and disbelief.

"Zack, what happened to you? You're skin and bones!"

I could not help but wonder how I went from a sturdy, well-fed heir to someone who looked like he barely tipped the scales at eighty pounds in just five short years.

Dad's eyes were filled with a pang of sorrow as he quickly told the servant to whip up something for me to eat.

"We were going to come get you, but Walter wasn't feeling well, so we-" he trailed off.

I got it. That was their way of saying sorry without actually saying it.

They could ignore me, put me down in front of Walter all they wanted, without a second thought about my feelings.

Then, like clockwork, they would hand me a little treat, a temporary balm for the hurt.

Once upon a time, that would have made my day.

However, now? I could not care less.

I was about to speak up when Janet cut in.

"Oh, please. He's just looking for attention, acting all sad and not eating. He just wants you to feel bad for him so you'll let him stay!"

Mom just snorted at Janet's words and turned back to me, her gaze soft and warm.

"Besides, we haven't found your real parents, so this is your home now. You can call me 'mom' again, and I'll still be here for you, just like always."

"It's okay, Mrs. Lloyd. I'm really thankful for everything you've done for me," I said, keeping it formal, putting an ocean of distance between us with just a few words.

Harriet could not hold back her tears any longer.

I was no longer the proud, cocky kid she used to know.

I would rather have let out all my bitterness, all my complaints about their years of indifference, than have stood there looking so pitiful.

…

When Walter saw me, he started shaking uncontrollably, as if I were some kind of ghost.

It took Walter an eternity to work up the nerve, but finally, he reached out for a handshake.

"Zack, let's bury the hatchet, okay?" he offered.

I just stood there, frozen.

However, we never clashed, so why was he talking about making peace?

Five years back, my freshman year at college was just like any other new start: I would loudly claim Liliana Garcia as mine.

Liliana, my betrothed, was my heart's raging fire. As the Lloyd family's heir, I was born with a silver spoon and a fierce pride that could not stand the sight of any guy eyeing her.

Walter was one of those guys.

Somehow, he, an orphanage kid, always managed to turn Liliana's head, she who was usually so aloof.

Even my sister, always my ally, turned her back on me for him.

I confronted him once.

After that, Walter got the rough end of the stick at school.

Rumors flew that I could not stomach him.

By semester's end, he had had enough and leapt from the school's rooftop.

He survived, without a scratch, but he left behind a letter, a letter that screamed accusations at me.

Nobody took my side.

Even Liliana cut ties.

I thought that was rock bottom.