We sit on the plane in first class, I am alone in the row behind Lib and Ave who both converse whilst I text Jane like I have been for the passed three hours, suddenly we have a lot to talk about. 

Jayyy 🎀📣: So is he hot?

Me: who

Jayyy 🎀📣: The guy who invited you to Texas? 

Me: grayson ??

Jayyy 🎀📣: Even his name sounds hot

Me: smokin

Jayyy 🎀📣: How old is he?

Me: idk maybe a litle older than us 

Me: like 18 or 19

Jayyy 🎀📣: So you have a chance?

Me: not interested

Jayyy 🎀📣: You just said he was "smokin" 

Me: i can find someone atractive without being atracted to them

Jayyy 🎀📣: Well if you're not interested get me his number 😌

I laugh to myself at my friend. "Picture time! Smoosh in and hold up your warm nuts" I hear Lib say and I laugh before photo bombing her selfie with Avery. My hair is disgusting and Im still in my cheer uniform which probably smells after all the exercise. I sit back down and look towards my own warm nuts accompanied by a complementary apple juice. I screw my face up at the thought of warm nuts, nuts them self are disgusting but warm nuts sounds even worse.

A women with dark hair walks towards us in a white suit right after we make it passed security "Ms. Grambs." She nods to Avery, then to Libby, then me. She adds on two extra greetings for Libby and I "Ms. Grambs. Ms. Grambs." She just repeated the same thing three times and managed to keep a straight face which only means one thing, she is a really serious person. She turns, expecting us to follow, which I think is kind of rude and self loving but my sisters both follow so I do too. "I'm Alisa Ortega," she said, "from McNamara, Ortega, and Jones." She pauses again turning her head to face Avery "You are a very hard young woman to get ahold of."

I notice Avery shrug "I live in my car." I smirk and Libby does not approve, "She doesn't live there," Libby said quickly. "Tell her you don't." Alisa Ortega, from McNamara, Ortega and Jones doesnt wait for Avery to clarify she does not live in her car before interrupting "We're so glad you could make it. During your time in Texas, you're to consider yourselves guests of the Hawthorne family. I'll be your liaison to the firm. Anything you need while you're here, come to me."

Im sensing this family is rich as lawyers usually bill by the hour as far as i know. I mean I presume she is a lawyer although she seems to be mid to late twenties so she might be a little young. Talking to her is giving me the same feeling as talking to Grayson Hawthorne. She is someone.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Alisa Ortega asked, walking toward an automatic door, her pace not slowing in the slightest when it seemed like the door might not open in time.

"How about some information?" Avery asks, "You'll have to be a bit more specific." She replies. "Do you know what's in the will?" I asked. "I do not." She gestures to a black car sitting near the curb. She opens the back door for us. Avery slides in, followed by Libby, followed by me. Alisa sat in the front passenger seat. The driver's seat was already occupied. Not by a face I could make however. "You'll find out what's in the will soon enough. We all will. The reading is scheduled for shortly after your arrival at Hawthorne House."

Not the Hawthornes' house. Just Hawthorne House, like it was some kind of English manor, complete with a name. I already know everyone will be rich snobs who can't get enough of theirselves. All of which i predict will be wearing suits similar to Grayson's. We pull up to a massive building. "Is that where we'll be staying?" Libby asked. "Hawthorne House?"

I wasn't aware we were even staying overnight or that Libby had packed clothes for us until about 5 minutes ago, "You'll have your pick of bedrooms," Alisa assures us. "Mr. Hawthorne bought the land the House is built on more than fifty years ago and spent every one of those years adding onto the architectural marvel he built there. I've lost track of the total number of bedrooms, but it's upward of thirty. Hawthorne House is... quite something."

That was the most information we'd gotten out of her yet. "I'm guessing Mr. Hawthorne was quite something, too?" Avery asks. "Good guess," Alisa said. "Mr. Hawthorne was fond of good guessers." 

"How well did you know him?" Libby asked beside me. "My father has been Tobias Hawthorne's attorney since before I was born." Her voice was now soft. "I spent a lot of time at Hawthorne House growing up."

"Do you have any idea why I'm here?" Avery asks. "Why he'd leave me anything at all?" Alisa glares at my sister "Are you the world-saving type?" Alisa asked, like that was a perfectly ordinary question. "No?" Avery guessed. "Ever had your life ruined by someone with the last name Hawthorne?" Alisa continued. "No." Avery says more confidently now. Alisa smiled, the most I've seen her so far yet still not very much "Lucky you."

We walk towards the castle looking "house" and pass some cars, amongst them sits a beat up motorcycle. "Looks like Nash made it home" Alisa Ortega states. "Nash?" Libby asks. "The eldest Hawthorne brother. There are four total" she informs. My mind begins creating profiles for each brother. 

Nash = oldest, aged 42 perhaps, only wears one black suit and refuses to take it off. Married to a much younger lady who is only 31, professional gold digger even though he is already rich.

Grayson = youngest brother, aged 20, forced to wear suits unwillingly, huge age gap between other brothers, has like three girlfriends at once

Unknown brother 1 = aged 29, obsessed with his socks matching his tie, owns at least four cats, single and never been in a relationship, only eats beef

Unknown brother 2 = aged 37, plays tennis for fun, lawyer by day drug dealer by night, dating someone called Bianca, has three children all of which he never speaks to, only ever drinks citrus green colored protein shakes

I miss the next parts of the conversation whilst creating this file, next thing I know we are walking inside the huge house. A familiar voice draws me back, "You've arrived. And right on time. I trust there were no problems with your flight?" He asks Avery. Grayson Hawthorne was wearing a different suit now. This one was black—and so were his shirt and his tie.  "You." Alisa greeted him with a steely-eyed look. 

"I take it I'm not forgiven for interfering?" Grayson asked. "You're nineteen," Alisa retorted. "Would it kill you to act like it?" She sighs "It might." Grayson flash's his teeth in a smile that makes me numb. "Ladies," he said, "may I take your coats?" I remember im not actually wearing one. 

"I'll keep mine," Avery replies. "And yours?" Grayson asks Libby smoothly. Libby took her coat off and handed it to him, clearly still amazed by the house. Grayson walks through one of the stone arches. On the other side was a corridor with small square panelling, he lays a hand on one panel and pushes, he pushes a few more then a pop sound comes from the walls, and a door appears separating from the wall and swinging open. 

"Are we in hogwarts?" I ask, making him smirk yet again "What the..." Avery starts to say. He reaches in and pulls out a hanger, "Coat closet" he explains. This is Alisa's cue to leave us in the hands of Grayson. He reaches inside but then a sound from inside makes me almost scream but I contain it. Shuffling sounds come next and suddenly a boy with light brown skin that matches his eyes perfectly emerges from the closet. A crumpled up suit is worn around him making him look like he had just napped in it. His tie is draped across his shoulder, his hair a curly mess and jacket unbuttoned. He is tall but has a baby face

"Am I late?" he asks Grayson. "One might suggest that you direct that query toward your watch." Grayson replies. "Is Jameson here yet?" Jameson, unnamed brother 2. Grayson stiffens. "No." The other boy grins. "Then I'm not late!" He looked past Grayson, to Avery, Libby and I. "And these must be our guests! How rude of Grayson not to introduce us."

A muscle in Grayson's jaw tenses. "Avery Grambs," he said formally, "and her sisters, Paris and Libby. Ladies, this is my brother, Alexander." For a moment, it seemed like Grayson might leave it there, but then came the eyebrow arch. "Xander is the baby of the family." This sentence proves my theory wrong as the boy in front of me looks my age.

"I'm the handsome one," alexander corrects. "I know what you're thinking. This serious bugger beside me can really fill out an Armani suit. But, I ask you, can he jolt the universe on and up to ten with his smile, like a young Mary Tyler Moore incarnate in the body of a multiracial James Dean?" Alexander seems to have only one mode of speaking: fast. "No," he answers his own question. "No, he cannot." I smile as If I caught any of what he just said.

He finally stopped talking long enough for someone else to speak. "It's nice to meet you," Libby manages. "Spend a lot of time in coat closets?" I ask. Xander dusted his hands off on his pants. "Secret passage," he said, then attempted to dust off his pant legs with his hands. "This place is full of them." I'm not even surprised, "Of course it is" I breathe.

Libby removes her phone in attempt to take photos but Alexander sidesteps in front of her "Mademoiselle... May I ask: What are your feelings on roller coasters?" He asks her. Libby's eyes widen so much they might just roll our her head. "This place has a roller coaster?" She asks.

Alexander grins. "Not exactly." The next thing I know, the "baby" of the Hawthorne family—who was six foot three— is pulling my eldest sister toward the back of the foyer. Avery follows closely behind and I lift my eyebrows in confusion how can a house "not exactly" have rollercoasters. 

I take a deep breathe with every intention to walk away before I catch Graysons eyes on me with a slight smile "What?" I ask. "Nothing," Grayson says, the tilt of his lips suggesting otherwise. "It's just... you have a very expressive face." He says. I've always known I haven't, as Libby and Avery always remind me. I'm an impeccable liar yet I barely ever do it. There was nothing remarkable about my face.

"I apologize for Xander," Grayson comments. "He tends not to buy into such antiquated notions as thinking before one speaks and sitting still for more than three consecutive seconds." He looked down. "He's the best of us, even on his worst days."

"Ms. Ortega said there were four of you." I couldn't help myself. I want to know more about this family. Want to know if the rest of my assumptions were accurate. Want to know more about him. "Four grandsons, I mean." 

"I have three brothers," Grayson tells me. "Same mother, different fathers. Our aunt Zara doesn't have any children." He looked past me. "And on the topic of my relations, I feel as though I should issue a second apology, in advance." He looks as though he will continue before he is interrupted.

"Gray, darling!" A woman moves towards us. I try to peg her age. Older than thirty, younger than fifty. Beyond that, I can't tell. "They're ready for us in the Great Room," she told Grayson. "Or they will be shortly. Where's your brother?" She asks, "Specificity, Mother." Grayson replies.

The woman rolls her eyes. "Don't you 'Mother' me, Grayson Hawthorne." She turns to me. "You'd think he was born wearing that suit," she says, I smile politely despite my discomfort "but Gray was my little streaker. A real free spirit. We couldn't keep clothes on him at all, really, until he was four. Frankly, I didn't even try." She pauses and assesses me without bothering to hide what shes doing. "You must be Ava." 

"This is Paris. Avery's sister" Grayson corrects. If he felt any embarrassment about his purported past as a toddler nudist, he didn't show it. "Her name is Avery, Mother." He sighs. "And where is Avery then?" She asks, "Avery!" I yell towards her, everyone seems surprised by my out of the blue volume. Avery begins to walk towards us and I smile in apology for coming into their home and yelling. 

The woman sighed but also smiled, like it was impossible for her to look at her son and not find herself utterly delighted in his presence. "I always swore my children would call me by my first name," she tells me as we wait for Avery. "I'd raise them as my equals, you know? But then, I always imagined having girls. Four boys later..." She gave the most elegant shrug possible.

Avery reaches us and smiles at the lady, "Do you mind if I ask, dear, when is your birthday?" She asks my sister without even introducing herself or anything.

The question took me by surprise and clearly took Ave by surprise as well. Avery doesnt reply she just kind of stands there. She put a hand on her cheek. "Scorpio? Or Capricorn? Not a Pisces, clearly—" she continued looking at my sisters features "Mother," Grayson said, and then he corrected himself. "Skye."

"Virgo!" She exclaims loudly turning to me. I nod, "Of course. I myself am a Virgo." She says.

"Grayson's a good boy," Skye told my sister. "Too good." She turns to be and winked at me. "We'll talk." She says back to Avery. "I doubt Ms. Grambs plans to stay long enough for a fireside chat—or a tarot reading." A second woman, Skye's age or a little older, inserted herself into the conversation.  

"I'm Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris." She looks at Avery dead in the eyes, the expression on her face as austere as her name. "Do you mind if I ask—how did you know my father?"

Avery gulps and then answers "I didn't. After too long of a time, Zara offers a tight smile. "Well, we appreciate your presence. It's been a trying time these past few weeks, as I'm sure you can imagine."

"Zara?" A man with slicked-back hair interrupted us, slipping an arm around her waist. "Mr. Ortega would like a word." The man, who I took to be Zara's husband, didn't spare so much as a glance for neither me or my sister.

Skye made up for it. "My sister 'has words' with people," she comments. "I have conversations. Lovely conversations. Quite frankly, that's how I ended up with four sons. Wonderful, intimate conversations with four fascinating men..." i gulp even more uncomfortable than i already was

"I will pay you to stop right there," Grayson said, a pained expression on his face. Skye pats her son's cheek. "Bribe. Threaten. Buy out. You couldn't be more Hawthorne, darling, if you tried." She gives us a knowing smile. "That's why we call him the heir apparent."

There was something in Skye's voice, something about Grayson's expression when his mother said the phrase heir apparent, that made me think I had greatly underestimated just how much the Hawthorne family wanted that will read. They don't know what's in the will, either. 

"Now," Skye said, looping one arm around Avery and one around me, "why don't we make our way to the Great Room?" She walks us in one direction and Grayson follows close behind.

The Great Room was giant. An enormous stone fireplace stood at the front. There were gargoyles carved into the sides of the fireplace. Literal gargoyles. 

Grayson deposited Libby, Avery and me into wingback chairs and then excused himself to the front of the room, where three older gentlemen in suits stood, talking to Zara and her husband.

Potentially lawyers. After another few minutes, Alisa joins them, and I scan the other occupants in the room. A White couple, older, in their sixties at least. A Black man, forties, with a military bearing, who stood with his back to a wall and maintained a clear line of sight to both exits. Alexander, with what was clearly another Hawthorne brother by his side. This one was older—midtwenties. He needed a haircut and had paired his suit with cowboy boots that, like the motorcycle outside, had seen better days.

Nash, I thought, recalling the name that Alisa had provided. Clearly I never got him right either.

Finally, an ancient woman joined the fray. Nash offered her an arm, but she took Alexander's instead. He led her straight to my sisters and I. "This is Nan," he tells us. "The woman. The legend."

"Get on with you." She swats his arm. "I'm this rascal's great-grandmother." Nan settles, with no small difficulty, into the open seat beside Avery. "Older than dirt and twice as mean."

"She's a softy," Alexander assured me cheerfully. "And I'm her favorite." He says"You are not my favorite," Nan grumbled. "I'm everyone's favorite!" Alexander grinned. "Far too much like that incorrigible grandfather of yours," Nan grunted. She closed her eyes, and I see her hands shake slightly. "Awful man." There was a tenderness there.

"Was Mr. Hawthorne your son?" Libby asks gently. She worked with the elderly, and she was a good listener. Nan welcomes the opportunity to snort again. "Son-in-law." Alexander smiles "He was also her favorite," Alexander clarifies. This wasn't a funeral. They must have laid the man to rest weeks earlier, but I know grief, can feel it— practically smell it.

"Are you all right, Pear?" Libby asks beside me. I thought back to Grayson telling me how expressive my face was. Better to think about Grayson Hawthorne than funerals and grieving. "I'm fine. That nickname.. not fine" I half joke. But I'm not. Even after two years, missing my mom could hit me like a tsunami. "I'm going to step outside," Avery says with a forced smile. "I  need some air." I realise she must have the same thoughts as me.

Zara's husband stops her on the way out. "Where are you going? We're about to start." He locks an arm over her elbow and i almost go over before she defends herself and walks away. "I was told there are four Hawthorne grandsons," she says, her voice steely. "By my count, you're still down by one. I'll be back in a minute. You won't even notice I'm gone." She defends herself before exiting and I smile proudly. I feel pretty out of spot here, everyone is wearing suits and expensive dresses with their hair done perfectly whilst i wear my "East Shore Tigers" cheer uniform with my hair in a loosely pulled back pony tail. I sink into my shoulders.

After around five minutes I start to realise I can't take it, "I need some air" I state standing up before Libby can say anything and exit however nobody objects as now they are already two down plus It's not even important for me to be here. 

On the way out I pass Avery who appears to be fine and allows me to go before I start crying. I make it into the empty hallway before a few tears fall down. I quickly wipe them. I don't even know why I'm crying, it's not like i knew him, of course deep down I'm sure i know why I'm crying. The thought of grief makes me feel it over again.

I sniffle like a sad puppy and close my eyes before angling my lower lip out and blowing so i reach my eyes. When i open my eyes again i almost scream as there is someone not exactly directly in front of me but close enough for me to take in his appearance. A little taller than six foot, dark scruffy hair, beautiful green eyes and most intriguing of all, his shirt seems to be missing, my eyes find myself dragging down his torso giving me a lump in my throat. I gulp, then immediately look away and all he does is smile. This smile helps me come to two conclusions; Number 1- he is drunk and Number 2- he is a Hawthorne.

"Shouldn't you be in there?" I ask gesturing to the door, he shrugs, "and who exactly are you?" He asks me, "my sister was mentioned in the will or something" I answer, I try to sound normal but that stuttery tone in your voice after you cry refuses to let that happen. "Mystery girl's sister" he answers, "I can smell the liquor in your breathe from here" I ignore, whilst turning to face away from him. 

"If yes is no and once is never, then how many sides does a triangle have?" He asks randomly. "What the fuck?" I ask exaggeratedly. He just gives me a look expecting me to answer. "Three? I don't fucking know? Its a triangle so it wouldn't be a fucking triangle if it didnt have a third fucking line or anymore" I say. I dont know what hes on about to be honest but its taking my mind off everything. "Interesting.. your sister didn't think so" He reports with his Hawthorne smirk that both him and Grayson wear perfectly well, Alexander has his own sort of twist on the smile, like his is kinder and more mischievous. "I really could not care less. Please shut up and go inside." I say.

"Why were you crying?" He asks now the smirk has dropped. "If you were crying and a stranger asked whats wrong would you answer?" I ask. "Whats your name?" He asks, yet again out of the blue. "I still don't believe I caught yours?" I fireback. "Jameson Winchester Hawthorne" he introduces and I feel as though its only fair to share my own, "Paris Riley Grambs" I reply. "Bonjour" He says before laughing to himself as though he just said the funniest thing ever. "Very creative, never heard that one before. Is there a kitchen in this place?" I ask, "Right this way Madame" he says before walking through an arch. We reach a kitchen and I quickly pick up a bottle of water from the refrigerator, i hand it to him. "Drink this" I order. Surprisingly he does and I just watch as his chest expands and shrinks in time with mine. He finishes it and throws the bottle on the ground, i shrink to my knees and pick it up, then place it in the bin. 

"Where's your shirt?" I ask, he leads me outside to the back yard and I close my eyes and shake my head, "Your shirt?" I repeat. He doesnt say anything before jumping and clutching onto the bottom of the metal railing on the balcony. "Don't you dare" I warn the boy I literally met 5 minutes ago. This doesn't stop him though and he pulls himself up to the railing. His back muscles tense perfectly. He jumps over it until he stands on the balcony looking down at me. He picks up a white shirt and starts buttoning it, i roll my eyes slightly. 

He finishes buttoning it and then he picks up his tie placing it around his neck, finally he slips into a jacket. Then he does something that makes my heart stop. He steps on the railings and dangles his foot over the edge. "Get down! Your going to get yourself killed" I yell. "I wouldn't die! I might break some bones.." he teases. I jump so my hands touch the bottom of the metal railing and pull as hard as i can, then i twist and pull myself over the railing. "Jameson Hawthorne. I've known you for 7 minutes and it has been the most stressful 7 minutes out of my 5758 days" i breathe heavily as I stand behind him on the railing. "Woah!" He yells as he plummets off the edge I try to grab him but fail and I lean over expecting to be traumatised for the rest of my life but instead am met with a boy standing perfectly fine who looks up to smile at me. Thats when I get on the railings, this makes his mischievous look stop. "Your going to get yourself killed" he says worriedly, " 'I wouldn't die! I might break some bones..' " I quote with a smile as I move to standing on only one leg. "Seriously, get down!" He pleads. "If you say so" i say before jumping from the balcony, I do a flip in the air similar to the throw we did in cheer earlier. I land on two feet and turn to face him with a smirk. "Cheerleader.." he shakes his head with a laugh as he realises by looking at my uniform. I wink, "You cared" I laugh teasingly. He laughs a little more and then attempts to tie his tie. "Can you really not tie a tie?" I ask whilst laughing, "come on, we all have something simple we cant do, tell me yours." He says whilst I tie it for him. "I can't tie my shoelaces?" I offer, he opens his mouth in shock. "You can't tie shoelaces?" He laughs. "I don't know? I never got taught so I just never did it" i laugh as well. He places his jacket on and we enter slightly late as the man has already began. 

"I, Tobias Tattersall Hawthorne," Mr. Ortega read, "being of sound body and mind, decree that my worldly possessions, including all monetary and physical assets, be disposed of as follows. To Andrew and Lottie Laughlin, for years of loyal service, I bequeath a sum of one hundred thousand dollars apiece, with lifelong, rent-free tenancy granted in Wayback Cottage, located on the western border of my Texas estate."

One hundred thousand? Nobody even seemed fazed by that! 

"To John Oren, head of my security detail, who has saved my life more times and in more ways than I can count, I leave the contents of my toolbox, held currently in the offices of McNamara, Ortega, and Jones, as well as a sum of three hundred thousand dollars."

"To my mother-in-law, Pearl O'Day, I leave an annuity of one hundred thousand dollars a year, plus a trust for medical expenses as set forth in the appendix. All jewelry belonging to my late wife, Alice O'Day Hawthorne, shall pass to her mother upon my death, to be distributed as she sees fit upon hers."

Nan harrumphs. "Don't you go getting any ideas," she orders the room at large. "I'm going to outlive you all."

Mr. Ortega smiles, but then that smile falters. "To..." He pauses and then tries again. "To my daughters, Zara Hawthorne-Calligaris and Skye Hawthorne, I leave the funds necessary to pay off all debts accrued as of the date and time of my death." Mr. Ortega pauses again, his lips pushing themselves together. The other two lawyers stare straight ahead, avoiding looking at any member of the Hawthorne family directly.

"Additionally, I leave to Skye my compass, may she always know true north, and to Zara, I leave my wedding ring, may she love as wholly and steadfastly as I loved her mother."

Another pause, more painful than the last.

"Go on." That came from Zara's husband.

"To each of my daughters," Mr. Ortega reads slowly, "beyond that already stated, I leave a one-time inheritance of fifty thousand dollars."

Tobias Hawthorne left his daughters less than he left his security detail?

Suddenly, Skye's reference to Grayson as the heir apparent took on a whole new meaning.

"You did this." Zara turns toward Skye. She didn't raise her voice, but it is deadly all the same.

"Me?" Skye says, indignant.

"Daddy was never the same after Toby died," Zara continues.

"Disappeared," Skye corrects.

"God, listen to you!" Zara lost her hold on her tone. "You got in his head, didn't you, Skye? Batted your eyelashes and convinced him to bypass us and leave everything to your—"

"Sons." Skye's voice was crisp. "The word you're looking for is sons."

"The word she's looking for is bastards." Nash Hawthorne had the thickest Texas accent of anyone in the room. "Not like we haven't heard it before."

"Oh shit. These people should have some kind of reality tv show" i utter to Avery and apparently Alexander heard this from the row in front as he burst out laughing before cutting himself off immediately.

"If I'd had a son..." Zara's voice caught.

"But you didn't." Skye let that sink in. "Did you, Zara?"

"Enough." Zara's husband stepped in. "We will sort this out."

"I'm afraid there's nothing to be sorted." Mr. Ortega reentered the fray. "You will find the will is ironclad, with significant disincentives to any who might be tempted to challenge it."

I translate that to mean, roughly, shut up and sit down.

"Now, if I may continue..." Mr. Ortega looks back down at the will in his hands. "To my grandsons, Nash Westbrook Hawthorne, Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, and Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne, I leave..."

"Everything," Zara mutters bitterly.

Mr. Ortega speaks over her. "Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars apiece, payable on their twenty-fifth birthdays, until such time to be managed by Alisa Ortega, trustee."

"What?" Alisa sounds shocked. "I mean... what?"

"The hell," Nash tells her pleasantly. "The phrase you're looking for, darlin', is what the hell?"

Tobias Hawthorne hadn't left everything to his grandsons.

"What is going on here?" Grayson asks, each word deadly and precise.

"Shit.." i mutter a little louder this time.

Tobias Hawthorne didn't leave everything to his grandsons. He didn't leave everything to his daughters. My brain malfunctions as I start the maths.

"Please, everyone," Mr. Ortega held up a hand. "Allow me to finish."

Forty-six point two billion dollars, I think. Tobias Hawthorne was worth forty-six point two billion dollars, and he left his grandsons a million dollars, combined. A hundred thousand total to his daughters. Another half million to his servants, an annuity for Nan...

The math in this equation did not add up. It couldn't add up.

One by one, the other occupants of the room turn to stare at my sister.

"The remainder of my estate," Mr. Ortega reads, "including all properties, monetary assets, and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to Avery Kylie Grambs."

I make the final move and turn to face her. She is pale and looks worried, confused and frightened, pretty much how i feel. Then i look eyes with Jameson, both of us have the same serious confused facial expression.

I know every single person in this room is thinking the same thing: What the fuck?