"I'm sorry," stammered Allistar. "Can you say that again?"
"This man, Gordon Andrews, and his wife Margaret, have brought me up since I was four. Though the term "brought up" is being generous. To be more precise, they have abused me, neglected me, and treated me like trash since I was four. Did I live with them? Yes. But was I ever once treated kindly? Absolutely not!"
Allistar leaped to his feet, his face red with rage. "Are you freaking kidding me? He knew where you and your mother were all this time?" He began to pace the room, seething in anger.
"Dad, let Cordelia talk. Maybe she can tell us where Alexis is." Anita's mother suggested, wanting to calm her father.
"I'm sorry, Cordelia. I am not upset with you. Please don't think that." Her grandfather had finally calmed down enough
