Stolen Identity: Mut Chapter 278: Opening Up

Chapter 278: Opening Up

By midmorning, Jamal drove his car into Callan’s family ho. The sll of warm coffee and breakfast drifted from the dining room. Callan’s parents sat together, plates half full, coffee cups steaming.

"Good morning, Uncle Hunter, Aunty Lila," Jamal greeted as he stepped in.

They both looked up and smiled at him, "Jamal! It’s been a long while. How have you been?" Callan’s mother said pleasantly.

"I’ve been well. I can see you’ve both been well too. You both looked so young when I stepped in, I almost didn’t recognize you," Jamal joked and they both laughed.

"Jamal," Callan’s father said. "You ca to see Callan?"

"Yes," Jamal nodded. "How is he?"

"He’s calm now. He’s in his room," Callan’s father answered.

"Is he really okay?" Jamal asked carefully.

Delilah sighed. "As okay as he can be. But I’ll appreciate it if you can get him to step out of the house."

"Alright," Jamal said before heading for Callan’s room.

He climbed the stairs two at a ti, and once he got to the door, he knocked gently. "Callan, it’s Jamal."

There was a pause. Then a quiet, "Co in."

Jamal pushed the door open. Callan was lying flat on his bed, his phone in hand. His eyes were fixed on the screen, Ryan’s video running.

Jamal looked at Callan’s face. He looked pale, tired and older than his years.

"Not the kind of welco I expected from you considering you were almost in tears begging

not to leave you in Husla," Jamal said dryly.

Callan looked up at him. "More reason you shouldn’t expect any welco from . Have you seen this?" He asked, referring to the video.

"Yeah," Jamal said softly, stepping closer. "I got a ssage from Em earlier telling

about it."

Callan’s thumb stopped the video. He stared at the ceiling. "A heads up from you would have been nice, you know?"

Jamal understood what he ant. "I couldn’t possibly tell you sothing like that over the phone. How can you expect

to break such a news to you over the phone? I don’t regret handling it the way I did."

Callan sighed deeply. "If you’re here with Abigail now, what about Genevieve?" Callan asked changing the subject.

"Stefan has a thing for her, so he took her away for so ti," Jamal said as he pulled a chair and sat. "He’s going to tell her the truth about everything."

Callan’s jaw tightened. "So she doesn’t know you know the truth already? Why then did he throw her under the bus like that? Why would he humiliate her this way publicly?" Callan asked, referring to Ryan’s video.

Jamal shrugged. "I wish I knew the answer to that. No one knows why he does anything. How are you feeling?"

Callan’s lips pressed tight. "I don’t know." He turned his head to Jamal. "How would you feel if you found out the blood of a man like that ran through your veins?"

Jamal’s chest clenched. He leaned forward. "I don’t think Blood is as important as people make it seem."

Callan frowned. "What do you an?"

"My biological father," Jamal said slowly, "was a monster. He’d lock my mom up and hit . He’d hit aunt Andy, too. He even sold her to other n. The best thing my mother ever did was give the police evidence of his cris to put him away, and then run. But even with his blood in , I didn’t grow up to be anything like him. I grew up with good n. My stepdad. My granddad. My uncle. My ntor. They shaped

into the man I am today. They mattered more than blood ever could. You’ve got good n around you too, Callan. That’s what counts. Not so stupid biology."

He leaned closer. "Your na is Callan Quinn. That’s who you are. A Quinn. I know you Callan. You have a good heart. Don’t allow yourself be fooled simply because you got part of your genes from a man, who doesn’t even have the decency to admit his cris. He still lies to make himself look good not caring how his actions hurt others. That should tell you all you need to know. Your real father is Hunter Quinn not Ryan Harris."

Callan sighed deeply. "How’s she? Abigail. And your son?" He asked, changing the subject.

"They’re fine," Jamal said. "They’re staying at Tom’s. Though I still can’t believe that everyone agreed on that instead of letting them move in with ."

This ti Callan let out a small chuckle. "Maybe they’re just trying to stop another baby outside wedlock."

Jamal flopped on the bed beside him. "That’s crap. Like that’s gonna stop it from happening if I want it to."

Callan chuckled again, making room for Jamal on the bed.

Silence filled the room, broken only by the ticking clock.

Then Callan spoke. "How do you really feel, Jamal? Knowing my biological father caused your girlfriend so much pain?"

Jamal’s looked at him. "I feel the sa way I’ve always felt. Ryan is Ryan. You are you. I don’t mix that up in my head."

"I wish it were that easy for ," Callan whispered.

"Tell ," Jamal said, "how do you feel that my girlfriend is the daughter of the woman who killed your mother?"

Callan’s face went soft. "From what I heard. It was an accident. I admit that the whole situation could’ve been handled better, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was an accident. And Abigail had nothing to do with it."

"Good. Keep that in mind that you have nothing to do with whatever Ryan Harris did. I hope you rember that," Jamal said firmly. "Because when I marry Abigail, you are going to be standing behind . Abigail has been worried about how you’d feel about her."

Callan smiled faintly. "I was worried about facing you all. After I found out about Ryan."

"That’s only because you’re a fool," Jamal said.

Callan frowned. "What?"

"You think everyone is shallow like you," Jamal explained. "When we found out about the connection, we were all worried about you. We are not stupid enough to associate you with Ryan’s cris. You deliberately choose to be ignorant and refuse to see how much you an to us and how much we all worry about you."

Callan looked away. "I’m sorry."

"Don’t just be sorry," Jamal pressed. "Tell

about your nightmares. I hear you’re still having them."

Callan was silent for a while and contemplated whether or not he should open up to Jamal about it. Just when Jamal was beginning to think he was not going to speak, Callan let out a deep breath as he sat up on the bed.

"For a very long ti I believed the woman who left

at the orphanage was my mother. She used to be married to a really terrible man. He..." Callan swallowed. "Whenever he was drunk he used to try to touch . Many tis. I barely escaped."

Jamal’s eyes went wide. He had not expected that.

"When I told her the first ti, she confronted him. He beat us both. He beat her so bad she was unconscious. After that I never reported to her anymore. I just did my best to avoid him. He’d always look for an excuse to hit us. For so reason, she never went to the police. She just stayed with him. One day she stepped in while he was hitting

and he turned on her even though she was heavily pregnant, I knew if I didn’t do anything he might kill her, so I fought back. I took so water and soap and went the stairs, then made him charge at . I pushed him hard. He slipped and fell down the stairs. He died."

Jamal sat frozen, watching as tears dropped from Callan’s eyes.

"She went into labor that night," Callan went on, his voice breaking. "She gave birth to a baby boy. Weeks later, she woke

up one morning saying the baby was dead. She said I rolled over the baby in my sleep. I didn’t. I know I didn’t. But she insisted it was my fault. She blad

for killing her husband and her baby, then she left

at the orphanage days later. She always said I was cursed. Maybe she was right."

Jamal’s throat tightened. He whispered, "A cursed child doesn’t end up with a family like the Quinns. Or with friends like , Stefan, Mari, and Emily. People who love you even when you close your heart."

Callan said nothing, though he felt a little lighter now that he had poured it all out to Jamal. He was surprised that talking about it wasn’t as hard as he had thought it would be.

Jamal leaned closer. "I’m sorry you went through all of that, Callan. I really am. But the past is behind you, Callan. Stop letting it weigh you down so much that it’s affecting your quality of life. My grandfather always says that cars have small mirrors for looking back, but a big window for looking forward. Glance back occasionally, yes, but don’t live there in the past because your future matters more. You should be more focused on what lies ahead. The occasional glimpse at the past should only be done to help you position yourself better to avoid errors in the future."

Callan stared at him. His lips trembled, then curved. "Why am I wasting money on therapy when I have such a wise friend like you?"

Jamal laughed. "I wonder the sa. You can send the money for this session to my account. Because you’re my friend I’ll give you a little discount."

Callan smiled genuinely, and relief flooded Jamal’s chest. "It’s been too long since you were in Ludus. How about we go out. Let’s drive around and forget everything else for a while. We could go to our favorite spots."

Callan’s smile grew. "Sure. Let’s do that."