Chapter 3 - The Golden Boy Wakes Up
Leo Bennett frowned, dropping his duffel bag onto the hardwood floor with a heavy thud. He looked between his mother, who looked like she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and his father, who was downing a tumbler of scotch straight from the decanter at two in the afternoon.
“What do you mean, Claire ruined us?” Leo asked, a faint, condescending smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “What did she do, forget to pay the Netflix bill again? Tell her to transfer the money. I’ve got a team dinner tonight at the steakhouse and I need at least a hundred bucks.”
“Shut up, Leo!” Richard barked suddenly, his voice cracking with a violence that made the boy flinch.
Leo had never heard his father use that tone with him. Never in his entire life. From the time he threw his first spiral at age six, Richard had treated him like an untouchable, gilded god, a prince who walked on water while the rest of the world served his ambitions.
“Richard, don’t yell at him,” Eleanor pleaded, rushing over to Leo and placing her manicured hands on his broad shoulders. Her touch was frantic, trembling like an addict seeking a fix. “It’s not his fault. He didn’t do anything wrong. He’s our champion.”
“Your champion is about to lose his ride to Columbus!” Richard snarled, throwing his empty glass into the unlit stone fireplace. The crystal shattered into a thousand sparkling shards. “Your sister withdrew her financial guarantee. She revoked her signature on the company credit lines. She canceled the training academy retainer. She is evicting us from this house!”
Leo stared at his father, utterly uncomprehending. “Evicting us? How can she evict us? This is *our* house. Dad bought this house.”
“The house is in Claire’s name, Leo,” Eleanor whispered, her voice trembling. “Years ago… when your father had some tax troubles, we put the deed in her name for protection. She was supposed to be the family’s safety net. She was supposed to protect us!”
“Then tell her to cut it out!” Leo said, crossing his arms, irritation rising in his chest. “Call her. Why are you guys letting her throw a tantrum? She always does this when she feels ignored. Just take her out to dinner, buy her some stupid purse, and tell her she’s great. She’ll roll over. She always does.”
“She isn’t answering her phone, Leo,” Eleanor said, tears finally spilling over her cheeks, cutting dark tracks through her foundation. “She blocked our numbers. She retained Martin Vance. He’s the most vicious commercial attorney in the state. She’s completely cut us off.”
Leo scoffed, pulling his phone from his pocket. “You guys are being ridiculous. I’ll call her. She never ignores me. I’m her brother.”
He dialed Claire’s number, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor. He expected the usual routine: Claire would answer on the second ring, her voice tired but softening the moment she realized it was him. She would ask how practice went, if his shoulder felt okay, if he needed anything. And then he would tell her to stop being crazy and fix whatever was wrong with Mom and Dad’s cards.
*“The number you have dialed is no longer in service or has restricted incoming calls.”*
Leo pulled the phone from his ear, staring at the screen in disbelief. “She… she blocked me? Why the hell would she block me? I didn’t even do anything to her!”
“She’s bitter,” Eleanor said quickly, grasping Leo’s forearms with desperate intensity. “She’s jealous of you, Leo. She has always been jealous of the attention you get, of your talent, of your future! She knows your state championship banquet is next week, she knows the scouts are finalizing your NIL deals, and she’s trying to sabotage you! She’s trying to drag us all down into the mud because she has nothing going on in her miserable life!”
Leo stood there, the words washing over him, but for the first time in his eighteen years, something felt entirely wrong.
A shadow crossed his mind. He remembered Friday night.
After the game, while the stadium had been roaring his name, he had looked up into the stands. His parents were there, waving wildly, holding a massive banner with his face on it. But Claire’s seat—the one she had occupied at every single home game since he was in middle school—had been empty.
He had asked his mother about it at the diner afterward.
*“Where was Claire?”* he had asked, biting into a burger. *“She said she was bringing her camera to get footage for my recruiting reel.”*
*“Oh, you know your sister, darling,”* Eleanor had replied with an airy wave of her hand. *“She had a little headache. She wanted to stay home and pout because she was tired from work. Don't worry about her. Tonight is about you.”*
Leo looked at his mother now. Her eyes were darting around the room like a cornered animal’s.
“Mom,” Leo said slowly, his voice dropping an octave. “Where was Claire on Friday night?”
“I told you, she had a migraine—”
“Don’t lie to me!” Leo shouted, a sudden, cold panic seizing his chest. “Where was she? Why did you guys go to the hospital this morning? You said you were going to the grocery store and the dry cleaners!”
Richard let out a harsh, bitter bark of laughter from the desk. “Tell him, Eleanor. Tell your golden boy why his sister is trying to burn our lives to the ground. Tell him where she was while he was throwing his precious football.”
“Richard, stop it!” Eleanor shrieked.
“Tell me!” Leo roared, taking a step toward his mother, his athletic frame towering over her.
“She was in the hospital, all right?!” Eleanor screamed, her voice hitting a shrill, hysterical pitch. “She had some bleeding in her stomach! The ER called right before kickoff! What was I supposed to do, Leo?! Was I supposed to ruin your biggest game of the season?! The Ohio State scouts were in the private box! If I had pulled you off the field, if we had caused a scene, it would have ruined your draft prospects! I did it for you! Everything I have ever done was for you!”
Leo felt the blood drain from his face. The air inside the grand foyer suddenly felt thick, toxic, impossible to breathe.
“She had internal bleeding… before the game?” Leo whispered. “The ER called… and you stayed at the game?”
“The doctors were there!” Eleanor rationalized, her hands waving wildly in the air. “What could I have done? I’m not a surgeon! She was in a hospital surrounded by medical professionals! We went this morning, Leo! We bought her lilies! Expensive ones! But she was already gone!”
“You left her there alone?” Leo took a step back, looking at his mother as if she were a demonic entity wearing a familiar face. “For seven days? You didn’t go all weekend? You threw a tailgate party on Saturday! You hosted the booster club on Sunday!”
“We were going to go on Monday!” Eleanor cried, reaching for him, but Leo violently wrenched his arm away from her grasp. “We got busy, Leo! Richard had meetings, and you had your physical therapy—”
“Shut up,” Leo breathed, his stomach violently heaving. “Shut up. Just… shut up.”
He remembered when he was twelve and broke his collarbone. Claire had slept on the wooden chair beside his hospital bed for three straight days, holding a plastic cup of ice chips to his lips because their parents were in Cabo on a vacation they refused to cancel. Claire had helped him with his homework. Claire had paid for his first set of custom cleats with her babysitting money. Claire had designed his recruiting website from scratch, staying up until three in the morning after working a ten-hour shift at her firm.
*“She’s jealous of you,”* his mother had said.
No. Claire wasn’t jealous.
Claire had almost died alone in a cold, sterile room while her family ate sliders and drank beer under stadium lights.
Leo grabbed his duffel bag, his hands shaking so violently he dropped it once before scooping it up again.
“Where are you going?!” Eleanor screamed, running after him as he turned toward the front door. “Leo, come back! We have to call the PR firm! We have to issue a statement! Leo!”
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Leo didn't look back. He shoved the door open, stepped out into the pouring rain, and let the heavy oak door slam shut behind him, leaving his parents screaming in the ruins of their empty castle.
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