Duncan Chillington lounged in thehis Grand Room of his luxurious, long-island estate as the mid-morning summer breeze blew through the open windows overlooking the Long-Island Sound. He often spent hours of his worry-free day out on that sun-deck, the kiss of that cool breeze from the water gave him a sense of meditation and gentleness in which he felt his life had deviated from. His days slowly began to pass with little purpose for Chillington and the hours slurred together in a dazed mixture of gambling, alcohol, and prescription anti-depressants. However, this particular morning, Duncan had just woken up from his previous night’s activities, fromor which he had little remembrance.  of. He stared, half-awake, at the dying fire in the giant stone fireplace in the center of the room.
    The doorbell rang, which didn’t stir him. It rang again, and still he the drunken man stared. By the third ring, he slowly stumbled onto the hardwood floor and made his way towards the door. Duncan peered through the eye-hole and saw two individuals upon his doorstep.
    One, was a older, shorter, slightly overweight woman with an explosive smile that portrayed a genuine kindness. She was wearing a business formal jacket and a matching skirt, which showed Duncan she was clearly there for some sort of investment pitch or sale.  although.
The other was a young girl, thirteen at the oldest, with a familiar look to her as if he had seen her before. Chillington figured he had seen her on that door-step before selling girl scout cookies or something of that nature. The girl had big brown eyes that hid behind her dark brown curls that were illuminating in the sunlight. She was wearing a blue dress with white stripes and was carrying a pink backpack behind her.
Chillington pondered opening the door, as he usually does not for these sort of situations, yet something drew him towards it. He halfway opened the door and still remained inside, for he knew the bright sunlight would burn into his bloodshot eyes. “Yes.” He mumbled.
“Mr. Duncan Chillington, I presume” the short woman said.
“Yes.”
“Beautiful! What a lovely home you have Mr. Chillington.”
Duncan stood motionless in the doorway as he waited for the older woman to arrive at her point.
“Oh,” she began “I am here on behalf of the state of New York Social Services, this is Casey.” The woman gestured towards the young girl who was staring at the ground.
“She’s your daughter.!”
Duncan Chillington stood, still motionless, in the doorway. He His half intoxicated brain tried to comprehend the rush of thoughts that erupted from it. The girl looked up from the floor and pulled a small envelope from her backpack. She handed it to Chillington. He slowly opened the envelope and found a note written on loose leaf paper.
It read: The death of Susan Amory, claims Duncan Chillington as the rightful father of Casey Amory. The state of New York sends its regards
Duncan’s hand fell numb, the letter fluttered to the ground.
“Car accident” the girl broke the silence “it was a car accident.” Duncan remembered Susan Amory well, he had met her at a restaurant in Manhattan. She had a certain look about her that drew you to her, she lit up the room when she walked in. He remembered her exactly even these 14 years past. Her blonde curls tied behind her face and deep brown eyes that knew exactly what you were thinking all the time. Susan was the only woman that Duncan had ever truly loved. In fact, she was the only person Duncan had ever truly loved.
The short woman hurriedly went through the do’s and dont’s of taking care of a child, of which Duncan heard very little of in his internal emotional turmoil. Before he knew it, she had left with a “we’ll be in touch” and Chillington was left with his daughter. She eventually let herself in and continued her way to the Grand Room, Chillington close behind. “Don't touch anything,” he finally said. The girl gazed upon the massive fireplace and began to pace around, making her way to the patio, back to the kitchen, through to the billiards room, and back to the Grand Room. “It's big,” the girl said “it’s definitely big.”
She had a familiar curiosity about her. Duncan remembered that same curiosity in her mother. He broke a small smile at the memory of Susan’s nearly identical response as she saw the estate for the first time. He soon whipped back to his morning recovery grumpiness. “Well I suppose you need a place to stay while I figure out what to do with you.”
Chillington mumbled small talk with the girl as he led her upstairs and down the hall towards the spare bedrooms. “You go to school?” he said.
“Yeah.” She responded
“Your mother, she was a great woman.”
“I know.”
“This is you.” He opened the door to a large room with an oversized king bed in the middle of it. It opened on to a balcony over looking the Sound and flowing, white drapes swaying with the breeze. Casey examined her new room and then back at her father as if to see if he was kidding or not. Silently, he turned and began to walk towards the hall.
“What's in there?” The girl asked as Chillington passed a closed double-doors across the hall from her. He looked back at her, then back towards the door and pushed it open to allow the girl in.
She approached the room and gazed at the multiple flashing lights and colors of the several arcade-games, televisions, video games, and miscellaneous toys and games. “The game room.” Duncan said.
The girl immediately raced into the room and jumped on every machine and game she could find. She was laughing and running around the many toys that Duncan had bought for no particular reason. “I think we’re gonna be fine.” She smiled at her father in the doorway.
Chillington chuckled at the girl's smile, it was something he had not seen in a very long time, something he missed very much. He broke back into a smile. “I think we are too.” He turned and walked down the hall.

Oh I love this! I love how it ends on an up note from such a depressing set of circumstances. You could develop this into a very sweet story…..Bravo, Liam!