The Last Heir

6. Out The Cell- the Male Office!

"Hey, rise to your feet. Let's go!" the man said to me from a little distance from the office to the cell.

I could not quite recognize who it was, so I continued to look at him, wondering and trying to refresh my memory if I had seen him somewhere before.

More questions about who he was, why he bailed me out of the cell, or how he knew they arrested me struck my mind.

Anyway, it was nice that some stranger came to my aid, and I could come out of the cell without being taken to jail. That was a good feeling.

The same way the metal clanged, and the key rattled before, it did again, and the cell's iron door was opened.

Quickly, I rose to my feet. If not for anything else, it was because I felt they could change their mind somewhat, and I wouldn't want that to happen.

"How are you?" The smile on the man's face showed he knew me before. But where? And why was he being so nice to me?

"Who are you, sir?" I asked, raising my eyes before I could gaze at his face since I was standing near to him.

His height was that of a tree. I was 6.5, but who would be taller than 6.5?

He had a mustache on his upper lips and no beard beneath his jaws. To me, he looked funny, like a cartoon.

As his height was, so was his slimness, like a willow branch. And when he smiled again, I saw his gapped teeth like a passage without a door.

Maybe he'd pass for being average, but being cute was a no, no.

"I am Harry Rice! I called you before. Mr. Franks told me they got you. Hahaha..."

But how the heck did Mr. Franks know they arrested me? I was certain that no one on the street would have told him about my arrest, not even if they were not scared of him.

Well, perhaps the answer was not far-fetched. If a person is the leader of a big gang, he would not have any problem finding things or persons.

"Now let's go! I have something to show you."

I followed Mr. Harry Rice immediately as he walked. Though he walked slowly, his long legs were like he was racing. And if I were just a little shorter than 6.5, it would be like I was running behind him.

"Your father did not die in an accident. The said accident was a murder, and the assassin must have left you on purpose, or he did not know they strapped an infant to the back seat of the car."

Mr. Harry Rice's words came to me as a surprise, but no, they were just words, and I could not have held on to a lie since the orphanage took me in. Or better still, why would the orphanage lie to me?

"No, sir, he died in an accident from Chicago. I saw the pictures, sir."

Mr. Harry Rice looked at me. He said nothing yet but scoff. He opened the door to his car's back seat.

"Get in," he instructed, and almost immediately, I stepped into the car.

"I do not know who told you these lies, but it seems they have hidden you from the truth about your family's power, wealth, and your inheritance as the last heir of his late father."

"Are these the pictures that they showed you?"

Mr. Harry Rice brought out some brown files, and when he opened one of its mouths and took his hands inside of it, he brought out image files. These were the exact images I saw of my parents in an accident when I was told about their death in the orphanage.

"Yes, sir! I saw these exact images before," I answered.

Mr. Harry Rice took his hands out of his shirt pocket without saying another word. He retrieved a cigar and a lighter and puffed out smoke. "They lied to you," he said bluntly.

"These images were altered. But you know what? Videos don't lie."

Mr. Harry Rice opened the car door and stepped out. He then opened the driver's seat door and reached into the locker on the other side of the car.

He retrieved a laptop. Although I had never used one before, I wasn't so ignorant as to not recognize it, especially when I saw people using similar devices in restaurants and cafes to start their day.

He returned to the back seat and opened the laptop. "These are the true events of that night."

A video played, and I briefly glanced at it.

It was the same car from the images, parked and not in an accident. Suddenly, a man in a mask ran from across the road to the car.

He pointed a pistol at the driver's window, and as the car attempted to flee, he fired immediately.

He ran to the other side of the car window and fired again.

"That was your dad and your mom being shot right there," Mr. Harry Rice said.

Of course, I knew this because it was what I had just seen, so I didn't take my eyes off the laptop screen. However, the masked assassin's subsequent actions puzzled me.

"What is he doing?" I asked, still staring at the screen.

"He saw you and decided to let you be. Maybe you would die alone in the accident," Mr. Harry Rice replied.

"And what is he doing now?" I asked again, watching as the assassin got into the car and sped away.

"He made it look like an accident," said Mr. Harry Rice, closing the laptop.

"You see, they lied to you, making you believe a falsehood about your own identity. You don't belong on the street. You belong in a place of power, affluence, and wealth, and I can help you claim your inheritance. You must go after it," he said.