Chapter 11
ANDREW
I’ve always hated this house.
It’s always been too massive. Too cold.
Too much.
It wasn’t enough that gigantic Greenwich estate sat on fourteen acres of manically perfect manicured lawns. Or that it boasted eight bedrooms, ten full bathrooms and enough fireplaces to have the Health Department called on us.
It was everything about it.
Four levels of decadence.
Recreation rooms, billiard rooms, wine cellars and movie theaters. Gyms, gourmet kitchens, reception halls and a seven-car garage.
Enough to fit a small city.
And it was all for us: The Fletchers.
All for a family that could have fit into a fourteenth of the space. A family that should have.
A family that was never a family to begin with.
Not after Grandfather died.
He had been the glue holding us toget
