Читать книгу Dorian Gray - John Garavaglia - Страница 47

resisted. However, he did shift his posture so that he was sitting cross-legged.

Finally he heard footsteps again. He recognized them as belonging to George Lord. But he didn’t bother to turn around. Then he heard George chuckling softly, and that distracted him. He swiveled his head and regarded his guardian, who was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his arms folded.

“What’s funny?” Asked Dorian.

“You just remind me so much of your father, that’s all.” Said George. “Same serious face. I’ll show you pictures of him, if you want.”

Then Dorian took a deep breath and let it out unsteadily. “My mom isn’t coming back, is she?”

“No, Dorian,” George told him, as gently as he could. “She was killed in a car crash. It was an accident.”

“No,” Dorian said flatly. “It wasn’t.”

“It wasn’t?” Said George curiously.

Dorian shoved his hand into one of the bags and pulled out a stack of comic books.

“My mother and father were secret heroes. Like…monster hunters. And they were helping people, and a monster killed them.” He held up an old issue, spine-rolled and tattered.

George picked it up automatically, flattening it carefully and looked at the cover. He frowned, trying to understand the image. It showed a hulking red man who had to be the devil wielding a cannon for a gun in his gigantic stone hand.

JOHN GRAVAGLIA

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