Birthright

Chapter Three

Jordan sat across from Margaret Sweeney, a secretary whose fingers flew over the keyboard of her computer. The secretary had mocha colored skin and tinted glasses that covered the fact that she wasn’t looking at the computer screen but the teen who sat so utterly still it was creepy. Sensing the secretary’s attention, Jordan looked up and her eyes were so piercing that Margaret’s fingers froze. After several moments, the secretary cleared her throat and transferred her gaze back to the screen. 

Jordan shivered as her mind slowly, unwillingly began to surface from the numbness that kept her sane. The whirlwind of police officers, social workers, therapists and attorneys that took turns trying to intimidate, comfort and coerce her was at an end, or was it? A man named Mr. Penn whisked her away from everyone and tried to convince her that her life was going to change for the better. 

Footsteps echoed down the hallway and Jordan tensed. A pair of gleaming shoes and black slacks appeared between her and the desk. Jordan pulled the ratty hat she wore so low her eyelashes touched the brim. She wondered about this man her whole life and now that he stood not a foot from her, she couldn’t even look up to see his face.  

“Sweeney,” a deep voice said. 

“Parker,” the secretary responded with a bite in her tone. She pressed the button on the intercom. “He’s here, Mr. Penn.” 

When Mr. Penn’s voice gave permission to enter the shoes strolled to the wood paneled door. Jordan looked up in time to see a tall man with wavy shoulder length black hair close the door behind him. Jordan felt Margaret watching her again but after a few moments the secretary resumed her steady, unbroken typing.

“I’m surprised you called me,” Mr. Parker said sardonically. 

Jordan stared at the closed door of Mr. Penn’s office. She shot a glance at Margaret Sweeney who seemed oblivious to the voices Jordan could hear clearly. 

“I had no choice under the circumstances. Did you look at the girl sitting outside?” Mr. Penn asked.

“What?”

Even through the door Jordan heard the wariness and surprise in Mr. Parker’s voice.

“Did you look at her?” 

“I saw her,” Mr. Parker said irritably. “I have better things to do than sit here talking about some homeless girl.” 

“That homeless girl was with William.”

A long silence and then, “She’s the only survivor?”

“Yes. She hasn’t said more than five words in two days. I wasn’t sure what to think of her so I brought in Angelina.” There was a wealth of satisfaction in Mr. Penn’s voice. 

“And what does this have to do with me?” 

“Everything.”

A long pause and Jordan stared straight ahead, waiting for Mr. Parker’s response. 

“That’s impossible.”

His voice raised the hair on Jordan’s nape.

“Apparently not.” Mr. Penn sounded amused. “Of course, you would know that better than anyone else.”

Mr. Parker’s voice held no inflection when he replied, “How much is this going to cost me?” 

Mr. Penn snorted. “You can’t buy your way out of this. You know what this means. Now that it’s begun this will never stop. You have to give her your name.”

“No.”

“It’s time to take your place in the real world.” 

“I’m not doing this with you.” There was a scrape of chair against wood as Mr. Parker stood, sending his chair skidding backwards.