Grant (part 3 of 3)

Grant

"You're in Newtopia!"

Tony

Grant returned to a cold bitterness that was like a thick, icy wall 700 feet high. “I have no brother.”

Tony winced and gestured his hands out and open in front of him, “You can’t see it now but what I did probably saved your life.  It’s going to take time.  See: you’re still a convicted criminal.”

“No thanks to you,” Grant snapped.

Tony winced again, closed his eyes, and nodded before continuing, “So they’re locking you up but you’re home, Seamus. You’re in Newtopia!"

Grant was so shocked he forgot what it was like to be angry.  He forgot what it was like to be sad, tired, rejected, and forgotten.  The words sounded so sweet he wanted to hear them again. He wanted to call Nancy.

“Please just forgive me when you can,” Tony said.  The last thing he said was the most confusing to Grant, “And you can’t do this alone, I mean I can’t either. So I mean, Seamus, I know what you know.” Grant had been so caught in the conspiracy in the prison and only just was recovering from being transported that he had forgotten why he was there in the first place: Whoever framed me was probably bribing Senator Baxton and murdered him.  Spain was said to have prosecuted him but there was a puppet master.  Any leading attorney would know who was pulling the strings. And that attorney is my brother.  He prosecuted me so that he could find out who framed me!

Tony’s arm was already at the curtain so he pulled it and left.  “Tony,” grant said. Tony returned from behind the curtains.

“Yea?”

“Well, you did really great in that courtroom.  You tore my defense apart.  In a way I’m proud of you.  I know you’re going to take the reins in

this family.  I’m sure mom is proud too.”

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