I stand helplessly trying to put the pieces together in my mind. Suddenly Avery is gone, she bolts through the doors and I turn to Libby, "I've got it" she murmurs and exits close after Avery. Now im stuck in a room full of people who want my sister dead and one guy to protect me. 

"Nice weather today isn't it" i joke, earning a death stare from Zara. I make a guilty smile and wink. Nobody says anything they just stand staring at me. "Oooh, we should have a rock, paper scissors tournament" I say sarcastically. Everyone stares blankly at me and Grayson tightens his jaw. I notice Nash slip out the door along with John Oren meaning I may just die. "You guys are no fun! I'd hate to go to a party you throw" I state sarcastically again. "God! You really don't talk much" I groan.

"Staring at me does not intimidate me. I know about half of you don't have the conscience for murder so I'm not worried... god... say something" I groan the last part. "Oooh, we should do circle of truth, you guys-" I say before being rudely cut off. "Shut up" Grayson says deadpan. "Oh my god! You can speak!" I use false enthusiasm.

Oren appears at the door, "You're sister would like a word outside" he informs, "I'm so sorry guys, I don't want to leave the party so soon but your just all pretty boring and make me want to hit my head on a wall repetitively so I'm gonna go" I say. I look at Jameson and Alexander who have both been enjoying my little show this whole time, both watching intently. I meet eyes with Jameson and wink before walking out. John Oren escorts me outside where Lib and Ave inform me we will be staying the night at a motel.

Lib asked Oren to take us to a motel. Instead, he drove us to the fanciest hotel I've ever seen, and he must have taken the scenic route, because when we arrive, Alisa Ortega is waiting for us in the lobby.

"I've had a chance to read the will in full." Apparently, thats her version of hello. "I brought a copy for you. I suggest we retire to your rooms and go over the details."

"Our rooms?" Avery repeats. The doormen are wearing tuxedos. There are six chandeliers in the lobby. Nearby, a woman is playing a five-foot-tall harp. "We can't afford rooms here."

Alisa gives my sister an almost pitying look. "Oh, honey," she says, then recovers her professionalism. "You own this hotel."

We are getting all sorts of strange looks from the patrons. "Besides which," Alisa continues, "the will is now in probate. It may be some time before the money and properties are out of escrow, but in the meantime, McNamara, Ortega, and Jones will be picking up the tab for anything you need."

Libby frowns, crinkling her brow. "Is that a thing that law firms do?"

"You have probably gathered that Mr. Hawthorne was one of our most important clients," Alisa said delicately. "It would be more precise to say that he was our only client. And now..."

"Now," Ave says, the truth sinking in, "that client is me."

I didn't bother to try reading the will yet from the sounds of it, there is only one rule.

"You're to live in Hawthorne House for one year, commencing no more than three days from now." Alisa has made that point at least twice already, but It still doesnt add up to me.

"The only string attached to my inheriting billions of dollars is that I must move into a mansion."

"Correct."

"A mansion where a large number of the people who were expecting to inherit this money still live. And I can't kick them out."

"Barring extraordinary circumstances, also correct. If it's any consolation, it is a very large house."

"And if I refuse? Or if the Hawthorne family has me killed?"

"No one is going to have you killed," Alisa says calmly.

"I know you grew up around these people and everything," Libby tells Alisa, trying to be diplomatic, "but they are totally, one hundred percent going to go all Lizzie Borden on my sister."

"Really would prefer not to be ax-murdered," Avery emphasises.

"Risk assessment: low," Oren rumbles. "At least insofar as axes are concerned."

It takes us all a second to realise that he is joking. "This is serious!"

"Believe me," he returns, "I know. But I also know the Hawthorne family. The boys would never harm a woman, and the women will come for you in the courtroom, no axes involved."

"Besides," Alisa adds, "in the state of Texas, if an heir dies while a will is in probate, the inheritance doesn't revert to the original estate—it becomes part of the heir's estate."

"And if I refuse to move in with them?" Avery asks again.

"She's not going to refuse." Libby shot laser eyes in her direction.

"If you fail to move into Hawthorne House in three days' time," Alisa tells her, "your portion of the estate will be dispersed to charity."

"Not to Tobias Hawthorne's family?" She asks.

"No." Alisa's neutral mask slipped slightly.

"Your father wrote the will, right?" She says.

"In consultation with the other partners at the firm," Alisa confirms.

"Did he tell you..." Avery hesitates before trying to find a better way to phrase what she wants to ask, then gives up. "Did he tell you why?"

Why had Tobias Hawthorne disinherited his family? Why leave everything to her?

"I don't think my father knows why," Alisa says. 

"Do you?"