Читать книгу Dorian Gray - John Garavaglia - Страница 79

phone, PDA (mounted to the computer), and an incredibly comfortable-looking leather chair from which to operate all of that machinery. These were Henry’s parents’ home offices.

The master bathroom was a lavish affair, all marble, with a claw foot bathtub and a tub-sized shower stall. Their favorite soaps and shampoos were stacked in the cabinet.

When he was younger, Dorian had gone through a phase of hating everything in his life. Now, he’d more or less made his peace with who he was and where he’d come from.

After his mother’s funeral, he had to go through such a horrible school year. Every other child (with the exception of Henry) having somehow developed the idea that he was stuck-up, and determined to rub his face in the dirt—figuratively and literally.

In retrospect, maybe he had been a bit of a prick that year, or at least the last few months of it, since he was orphaned—bossy, selfish, and nasty, telling everyone what they should be doing for him. The Harrison boy hadn’t listened too well, which was why the two of them were rolling around on the playground, beating the hell out of each other on a daily basis.

After several incidents, Dorian was taken to see a therapist to find a way to cope with the loss of his mother and the sudden extreme change to his life. George and Lori were with him every step of the way and they proved to be wonderful foster parents, and Henry had always been such a good friend to him. Dorian couldn’t ask for anyone else to be his surrogate family. He felt

JOHN GRAVAGLIA

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