The Glass Ballerina Who Danced On Knives

A way - and a will

Trinity pov
Jameson arrived after me, looking sober for once.
"What are we doing today?" Grayson asked his brother.

"We?" Jameson shot back.

Grayson meticulously cuffed his sleeves. He donned a stiff collared shirt like armor. "Can't an older brother spend time with his younger brother and an interloper of dubious intentions without getting the third degree?"

"He doesn't trust me with you," Avery piped up.

"I'm such a delicate flower." Jameson's tone was light, but his eyes told a different story. "In need of protection and constant supervision."

"Excuse me! Just because you are both crushing on Avery does not mean you need to do," I give them a once over, "whatever this is."

Grayson was undaunted by sarcasm. "So it would seem." He smiled, the expression razor sharp. "What are we doing today?" he repeated.

"Heiress  and  I,"  Jameson  replied  pointedly,  "are  following a hunch, with Trinity's help, doubtlessly wasting sinful amounts of time on what I'm sure you would consider to be nonsensical flapdoodle."

Grayson frowned. "I don't talk like that."Jameson let the arch of an eyebrow speak for itself. Grayson narrowed his eyes. "And what hunch are the three of you following?"

"I'm sick of saying 'excuse me' so I'll skip that. And I'm not following this or anything. I'm not going to get mixed up in this (I mean, I say I won't, but inevitably will). All I'm doing is providing a little labor - which I'll make you pay for later."

Silence. Then Avery spoke up.

"We think your grandfather's letter to Jameson included a clue about what he was thinking."

"What he was thinking," Grayson repeated, sharp eyes dissecting Avery's face, "and why he left everything to you."

Jameson leaned back against the doorframe. "It sounds like him, doesn't it?" he asked Grayson. "One last game?" I could hear in Jamie's tone that he wanted Grayson to say yes. He wanted our brother's agreement, or possibly approval. Maybe some part of him wanted for us to do this together. For a split second, I saw a spark of something in Grayson's eyes, too, but it was extinguished so quickly I was left wondering if the light and my mind were playing tricks on me.

"Frankly,  Jamie,"  Grayson  commented,  "I'm  surprised  you  still  feel  you know the old man at all."
"I am just full of surprises." Jameson must have caught himself wanting something from Grayson, because the light in his own eyes went out, too. "And you can leave any time, Gray."

"I think not," Grayson replied. "Better the devil you know than the devil you don't." He let those words hang in the air. "Or is it? Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely." My eyes darted toward Jameson, who stood eerily, absolutely still.

"He  left  you  the  same  message," I remarked finally,  pushing  off  the doorway and pacing the room.

"The same clue." adds Jameson.

"Not a clue," Grayson countered. "An indication that he wasn't in his rightmind."

Jameson whirled on him. "You don't believe that." He assessed Grayson's expression, his posture.

"But a judge might."

Jameson shot Avery a look. "He'll use his letter against you if he can."

"There was another will before this one," Avery declared, looking at each of us in turn. "Your grandfather left your family even less in that one. He didn't disinherit you for me."