From Prison Bars To Gold Bars.

48. Truth

"When you were a little boy, you said it was your dream to own a restaurant one day. Everyone laughed when you said it but the next day, you started making drawings of what you wanted it to look like. The designs, the colors, all you. You even came up with the name yourself."

As he listened to Fred, Van was hit with a sudden feeling of nostalgia. An image pooped up in his mind, a large dining room, a little boy with his parents and siblings. Was it him?

Could that be the night Fred was talking about?

Not remembering who he was or what his childhood was like was very frustrating, and Van couldn't help but blame Grace.

"Do you remember sire, you made a bet with your father about it."

"A bet." Van repeated a if in a daze, trying to dig deep into his memories. "I-It was something about drawing…or am I wrong?"

"You're not sire. Your father said if you completed your drawings for the restaurant and came up with a good name–"

"-- he would open it up for me." Van had a blank expression on hi