Inheritance

|02|

When all were sat, began the reading. Oh, if Del only knew what was coming her way.

The quiet felt overwhelming, and Del forced herself to take a sip of her tea. The cup rattled loudly when she sat it back down on the table, deafening against the pregnant silence. The attorney cleared his throat. "Since you're all here, we may begin." 

Tension penetrated through the walls of the room. "I, Alaric Francis Ladrian," read Mr. O'Hare, "being of sound body and mind, decree that all my worldly possessions be disposed of as follows. To Mr. Shoupe and family, for generations of service to our House, I bequeath the piece of land I own at Cornwall with rent-free tenancy for life. To my brother, Finnegan Ladrian, I give my cherished grandfather clock, the antique family heirloom that I believe he would take the utmost care of. And to my daughter, Delana Rose Ladrian, I leave all my remaining monetary wealth, properties, and material assets."

It took Del a moment to understand what those words meant. And all she could think was, That was...short.

A stunned silence shrouded the room.

"What?" her uncle roared, making the old Blackwell couple flinch. "Is this some sort of a joke? I—I can't—Bah! The senile old fool leaves me a clock? How dare he! What was he thinking--?" He spluttered, words failing him in his anger. Instead, he settled on shattering the glass souvenirs sitting on the mantle above the unlit fireplace.

"Stop it!" Lord Blackwell rose in unsteady legs, his face reddening with anger. It was almost comical. "Our son-in-law got our daughter killed! And our grandchild! And left nothing in compensation! What is the meaning of this?" He turned to the lawyer. "There must be some mistake! Is there no way to change—"

"No." The word came out clipped from the lawyer. "The will is ironclad."

"Unbelievable!" her uncle shouted. Suddenly, he turned on his heels, fast approaching Del who sat quietly at one corner. He would've grabbed her by the throat, but from nowhere the headguard slipped in before her, restraining the struggling man who yelled hoarsely, "You did this, you half-breed bitch! How'd you do it? How'd you—"

Del stood up, abruptly cold, a rush of anger shooing away all confusion. But it was more than anger. A familiar sensation rose in the pits of her stomach. The room faded from view. Only her uncle remained. The sensation coiled tighter, like a rattlesnake in her chest, hissing. A sudden awareness dawning on her, she pushed the feeling down, sweat beading on her forehead.

She remembered a stern voice saying, Be aware. Feel. That's the first step.

She placed a hand on the guard, asking him silently to loosen his hold on Uncle. On close proximity, Del could smell the alcohol on him as he sneered down at her, eyes bloodshot.

"Enough," she said, her voice quiet. "I believe, Uncle, you're trespassing on private property. You aren't welcome here. Leave before I am forced to throw you out."

Her uncle gaped as the Blackwells cried out in outrage. The guard loomed behind Del. "You heard the lady," he barked.

Snarling, Uncle leaned close to her, his breath making her nose wrinkle. "This isn't over, niece." He stalked out, shattering another bauble on his way out. Delana turned pleasantly towards the couple, throwing a faux smile at them. "You may see yourselves out." Waving dismissively, she strutted out of the room. She didn't stop walking until she'd climbed upstairs and slammed herself behind the doors to her room. The coldness faded, and she crumbled down on the floor.

Her head felt dizzy, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. What in the name of the Lord just happened? She'd only come back here to pay her respects, to say her last goodbyes, to cut off her father from her life once and for all. She'd come for closure. Not this. She'd never wanted to stay here, and certainly never wanted to be in charge of a House she hated associating with.