I Slept with My Boss and Ran Away

Around Reginald’s house, both inside and out, there were people hidden in the shadows. Terrence had been spotted within seconds of his arrival. The information was quickly relayed to Reginald, who was playing with Little Lucky at the time. Little Lucky reached for his phone, her tiny hands knocking it out of his grasp. Reginald’s eyes darkened, and he looked at Little Lucky with a hint of fierceness. Sensing his emotion, Little Lucky burst into tears. It was the first time she had cried in front of Reginald.

Her crying made Reginald’s expression even more severe. Grandma Sterling walked in and asked, “Why is Rowan crying? Is she hungry?” Her voice brought Reginald back to his usual loving demeanor. Smiling, he said, “Mom, Rowan might be hungry.” Grandma Sterling took a closer look and called for the nanny to take Little Lucky away.

“Reginald, come with me,” Grandma Sterling said as she walked out. They went to an attic on the top floor, filled with old items. The attic hadn’t been opened for many years, and a thick layer of dust had accumulated inside. Grandma Sterling opened the door, and dust flew everywhere. She coughed and walked in, taking a box from a cabinet. “Reginald, open it.”

The box was so old that it barely stayed closed. Reginald easily opened it to find an old-fashioned hand-knitted wool hat, a copper coin, and a stack of yellowed letters. “Mom, what are these?” he asked.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

“These belonged to your parents,” Grandma Sterling replied. “I should have given them to you thirty years ago, but you never came back after you left home. This copper coin was given to me by your mother to pass on to you. The hat was hand-knitted by her for you. These letters are evidence of your father’s correspondence with certain people back then.”

Reginald grabbed the letters and glanced through them. Just as Grandma Sterling had said before, his biological father was a criminal. The letters were irrefutable proof of this.

“You asked me years ago if I reported your father,” Grandma Sterling continued. “I told you then and I tell you now-I didn’t. Your mother was my best friend. Although I hated your father and considered it, I never did it. These letters have been sealed here all this time; I never touched them.”

Reginald’s face showed disbelief. “Impossible.”

“Reginald,” Grandma Sterling said calmly, “I don’t know why you’ve come back this time, but some things need to be clarified for you to understand. How you choose to act is up to you.” At her age, there was little Grandma Sterling didn’t understand clearly anymore.

For the sake of future generations, she felt it necessary to have this conversation with Reginald one more time.

After she left, Reginald read every letter word by word. Calling his father a criminal was an understatement; the letters revealed that his father had helped commit numerous atrocities during wartime.

Reginald’s mother couldn’t turn his father back from his path and left heartbroken when everything was exposed.

Raised by Grandma Sterling, Reginald had a complete childhood without facing rejection or scorn. If people knew he was the son of such a criminal, could he have survived?

The blood running through his veins was unchangeable. Whether fifty years ago or now, both his father and he had done unforgivable things.

After reading the letters, Reginald felt neither gratitude towards Grandma Sterling nor shame for being the son of a criminal-only excitement about fulfilling his father’s last wishes and anger towards those who caused his parents’ deaths.