Page 82 of Envy
“I’m aware this can be difficult,” Morgan says, not sounding sorry in the least. “Feel free to take a moment to process, but I must continue.
“To my daughter, I entrust your husband to care for and protect you in the case of my passing. As such, he shall take ownership over your allotment.”
I blink, a weight sinking in my stomach. “He cut me out of the will?”
“It would seem that was his intent,” Morgan says, true sympathy shining through as she passes me a document to sign.
“Serves you right.” Mother’s bark of a laugh is like a slap in the face. Dean Whitehouser shoots her a reproachful look but doesn’t say anything. I banish the tears threatening to spill as I sign, grateful for Silas’s strong hand on my thigh.
“Congratulations on your wedding,” Morgan presses on, flipping through her folder to withdraw a thick stack of papers.
Silas inhales sharply as my brows furrow, looking to him for answers. His jaw flexes, a harsh shake of his head telling me he doesn’t know what she’s talking about.
“And condolences,” Morgan continues, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Your father took it upon himself to have a copy of your marriage certificate to a Mr. Jameson Barns added to his will. As you know, Mr. Barns also tragically died on the same day, which means you inherit his portion of your father’s wealth in its entirety.”
My mouth falls open, staring at the large sum of funds listed on the front page of the stack Morgan slides my way.
“Details can be found on subsequent pages as noted by the color-coded tabs. The key is listed on the bottom of page one. This is your copy to keep.”
“This is preposterous,” Mother seethes, nostrils flaring as she cranes her neck to see. “Evie never married Jameson.”
“Trisha, please,” Dean Whitehouser chides, looking at the monitor and inflating cuff circling her arm. “Your blood pressure, dear.”
“A legal marriage certificate was documented and signed. With you listed as a witness,” Morgan says, seeming to enjoy the way Mother has to bite her tongue before she turns to me. “If you sign on this line, the inheritance is yours. Your legal marriage to Mr. Barns has already been signed by a judge andthe required witnesses. And subsequently ended due to his death.”
I glance at Silas, watching his fists clench, and knowing the idea of me being bound to another is torture.
“Sign it, little fox.” He sighs. “As Morgan said, Mr. Barns isdead.”
The extra emphasis on the last word has my lips quirking. I scrawl my name on the dotted line, realizing I’ll be able to finish the school year without aid from Dean Whitehouser. Or Silas. Who knows, we might even be able to transfer to my dream college in Spain once Morana and Serena are settled.
They’re processing as well as they can. Serena feels safest with Morana, but Tempest and I are growing on her. She’s looking into school and careers and recently found a therapist she feels comfortable with.
Likewise, Morana is slowly opening up, sharing rare glimpses of her past when she feels up to it. Each person’s trauma is their own, and while I don’t expect Morana to tell us everything, I can’t help but feel there’s something she’s hiding. It’s in the way I catch her looking toward the horizon at sunrise, staring out across the desert as if envisioning someone coming for her. As ifwishingto be found. Like she has a secret she’s kept even from Serena.
Time will tell. Isn’t that what they say? There’s no use running from a past that’s already happened or racing toward a future that has yet to unfold. Life is happening right now—all around us.
I set the pen down, relieved to find only love swirling in Silas’s gaze. “Is that it?”
“One more thing,” Morgan says. Even Mother stops her cursing long enough to watch as Morgan withdraws a second, equally thick stack. “Jonathan died without a will, meaning all his assets revert to his next of kin.”
“Me,” Mother declares, her grin as warm as an icy shard.
“Actually, no.” Morgan’s smile is triumphant. “Being that you’re not his biological mother, according to the state’s succession law, Evie’s status as half-sister affords her his claim. Sign here, please.”
Mother opens her mouth, no doubt ready to tell the world that I’m not related to Jonathan, but Dean Whitehouser stops her. With the investigation and nearly everyone from the church ending up in jail, Mother has had to be careful what she admits to. Wanting to cover up an affair is motivation enough, but if she tests me on this, I’ll tell the entire world how she supported Roy. How she offered to sell her own daughter.
I don’t blink, holding her gaze as I wait to see what she’ll do. With effort she swallows and turns away.
Laughing, I scrawl my name across the bottom as fast as I can. Silas and I push to stand, accepting a copy of the paperwork before rushing from the room.
“I’ll be in contact shortly to help with dispersal of funds,” Morgan calls, waving farewell as she heads for the elevator.
“Damn, baby.” Silas chuckles as we step outside the hospital. Light clouds drift lazily across the blue sky, palm trees swaying in a cool breeze. Hints of salt coat the air, the gentle caw of seagulls humming in the distance. “Looks like you’re taking me out to lunch. Where should we go?”
Anywhere, I think as a smile splits my face. We can go anywhere. Do anything. Spain doesn’t have to stay a dream. Silas dedicating himself to his art and me, free to study at leisure, becoming a professor so I never have to stop learning. We can do it all.
Weaving my fingers through his, I press up on my toes, capturing his lips in a crushing kiss. Silas groans, fingers tangling in my hair, tugging hard enough to have my thighs clenching in anticipation.