The Reading of the Will
Split Four Ways

What Odessa Knew

Abernathy read slowly, the way he always did, like the words might bruise if he rushed them.

"'To Juno Calder, I leave the house at Larkspur, free and clear, along with its contents. Not because she needs a house. Because for forty-two years she didn't have a family that claimed her, and I am done being the reason for that.'"

Juno's hand went to her mouth. Delphine reached over without thinking and took the other one.

"'To Delphine and Corwin,'" Abernathy continued, "'I leave my shares of the Holbrook Group in equal measure, to be distributed as originally intended, without condition.'"

Corwin exhaled like he'd been holding his breath for three days. Delphine felt the knot in her own chest loosen a fraction.

"'To Barrett,'" Abernathy read, and paused.

"Go on," Barrett said. His voice had no color left in it.

"'I leave my remaining shares of the Holbrook Group in trust, to be released only after an independent audit of the company's financial records for the past three years is completed and filed with the board.'"

The kitchen went dead silent.

"An audit," Barrett repeated.

"'I have my reasons,'" Abernathy read, "'and I suspect, by the time this is read, my son will know exactly what they are.'"

Every eye in the room turned to Barrett.

"She knew," Delphine said slowly, watching his face fall apart in real time. "Whatever this is — she knew before she died."

Barrett didn't answer. He was staring at a spot on the table, jaw working, the same posture Delphine had seen on him exactly once before — the week their father died, the only time she'd ever seen him look afraid.

Abernathy set the letter down and pulled a slim printed report from the bottom of his case — not from Odessa's handwriting this time, but typed, official, stamped with a firm's letterhead Delphine didn't recognize.

"Your mother commissioned this herself," Abernathy said, "four months ago. I was instructed to release it to the family only if the audit clause was ever triggered."

He slid it across the table to Barrett.

"It already has your name on it," he said. "Page one."

Barrett didn't touch it.

"How much," Corwin asked quietly, "are we talking about?"

Abernathy didn't answer. He didn't have to. Barrett had already gone white, staring at a number none of the rest of them could see yet.

Continue the story Part 9: Friday →

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