To the lawyer’s credit, he straightens in his chair, his body language instantly becoming professional. “Of course. My apologies, how can I be of help.”
My hand trembles slightly as I reach into my purse and pull out the envelope containing the doctor’s examination report. “Mr. Worth, as I’m sure you’re aware, my great-grandfather’s will had a lot of clauses and stipulations that I was required to adhere to in order to inherit.”
“Yes,” he says clearing his throat. “It was an unusual bequest, but those were Harold’s wishes.”
“I understand,” I say patiently. “As my great-grandfather’s lawyers and the executors of his will I’m here to make you aware that I am no longer in a position to inherit.”
Mr. Worth’s eyebrows shoot up so quickly that it’s almost comical. “I see,” he says, clearing his throat again.
“Here is a letter from my doctor, confirming my ineligibility to inherit,” I say, placing the envelope on the desk; watching as he pulls it the rest of the distance toward him, removes the letter, and reads it.
Folding my hands together in my lap, I wait silently as he reads the paperwork that confirms I’m no longer a virgin. I can’t look at him, so I scan the wall behind him, staring at the frames that hold degree certificates and other qualifications, until he clears his throat yet again and I’m forced to divert my attention back to him.
“Miss Archibald, are you sure—” he begins.
“Mr. Worth,” I say interrupting him. “My great-grandfather’s will is the most toxic thing that has ever happened to my family. I’m not entirely sure what his hope was when he wrote it, but I can confidently say that it didn’t do what he intended it would. His stipulations didn’t make me an honorable person of upstanding moral fortitude like he said it would. All his rules did was destroy my family and make me justify mine and my parents’ appalling behavior if it was in line with his wishes and in pursuit of this inheritance.”
The older man’s eyes widen but I keep speaking, needing him to understand, at least a little, why I’m here.
“If there was the option to walk away from this money I would have taken it, but he forced me into a position where he tied me to this life for another seven years. I’m confident when I say that if I continue to live for the next seven years the way I have been for the last four, there will be nothing redeemable about me left. I want to break this will. I want to be free to try to put my life back together again in some semblance of a way where I can live with myself, and I can’t do that until this money is as far away from me as physically possible. That letter is real and I have more proof should I need it, but I’m hoping that I won’t.”
Mr. Worth’s lips are downturned, his expression sad. Lifting his phone from his desk he brings it to his ear, his eyes not leaving mine as he speaks into it. “Could you ask Neville to come to my office please, I need something notarized.”
9
Carrigan
Sliding the key card into my newly acquired hotel room door lock, I push inside and close the door behind me.
It’s done.
It’s over.
Dropping my purse to the sofa I fall down after it, my legs giving way as the bravado and adrenaline I’ve been running on all day starts to dissolve. The cushions are soft and almost warm to the touch beneath me, but I can barely focus on it as my body starts to convulse.
What did I do?
What the hell did I just do?
They’ll never forgive me, or maybe they will. Maybe my parents are as disgusted by everything as I have become.
No. That’s nothing but wishful thinking, because the truth is what I did today had to happen, but the fall out is going to destroy me, my parents, and maybe even Tallulah too. I just changed all of our lives, the same way that envelope full of papers did all those years ago.
A single tear slides from eyes, rolling down my cheek and falling to my knees. With shaking fingers I touch it, rubbing the moisture between my thumb and forefinger, focusing everything on the simple movement and hoping that it might hold me together.
I made this choice and it was the right one. The first right decision I’ve made in a really long time. Now I need to wash my face, get dressed, and go to my sister’s engagement party. I just hope that she gets at least a few happy moments with her fiancé before everything goes to hell.
Smoothing the fabric of my dress down, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the long mirrors that adorn the walls. My dress is black, floor length with cap sleeves, heavily beaded, and clinging to what little curves I have. It’s probably more suited to a funeral than a party, but the color black makes me feel powerful and I need all the confidence I can get right now.
The ballroom is full of people as I march through the doorway, eyeing the crowds from left to right searching for Tallulah or Arlo or even one of their friends, Watson, Oliver. Or Carson. But I can’t spot them and instead I find my mother. The moment she sees me she pushes her way through the crowd toward me, an expression of pure rage hardening her already cosmetically altered face until she appears to be almost like an angry porcelain doll.
Sighing as silently as I can muster, I school my expression, twisting my lips into an enigmatic smile, the one my mother helped me perfect. It feels almost poetic to be using the skills she helped me perfect against her now, although I doubt she’ll see the irony of it.
“Carrigan,” she snarls, as her fingers wrap
