TW: Mentions of suicidal thoughts, anxiety, depression 

I bolted. The next thing I knew, I was outside. The front door of Hawthorne House slammed behind me. Cool air hit my face. I was almost sure I was breathing, but my entire body felt distant and numb. Was this what shock felt like?

"Kayla!" Libby burst out of the house after me. "Are you okay?" She studied me, concerned. "Also: Are you insane? When someone gives you money, you don't try to give it back!"

"JUST SHUT UP!" I yelled.

I couldn't breath, my heart was going faster than preferred. My vision was black and blurry. I was about to pass out.

"Kayla calm down, why are you freaking out?" Avery yelled.

"Oh I don't know, some old rich guy left all his fucking money and houses to me and now his family that he screwed over is going to kill me!" 

"Well he left me houses too!" She countered.

"Avery, not everything is fucking about you. I'm sorry the equilibrium of the universe doesn't revolve around you but you inherited a few houses in the states, I JUST INHERITED 46.2 BILLION FUCKING DOLLARS. From some guy I don't even know. Last time I checked, it wasn't you who stole all their money, you aren't the one they'll come for! I mean have you seen those people, a few properties don't mean nothing to them! I took their grandfather's legacy! me! Someone who's meant to be invisible to the whole world including you. So I'm sorry that the one time I get attention it's for something I don't want and I can't handle cause like you always say, I'm just not mature enough!"

I panted, tears streaming down my face. Avery stood speechlessly and appalled and Libby looked like someone had just died.

When your neglected as a child by the people who are meant to love you. You begin to question if anyone even wants you here. Would they miss you if you were gone?

That worry turns to anxiety and depression. The constant feeling of aloneness where you scream as loud as you can but no one can hear you.

That depression can lead to you believing you're alone in the world. That the aloneness is real and it's never going to leave, so what's the point.

That leads to wanting to kill yourself. At least for me it did.

Before I knew it they had walked away, leaving me on the ground, my knees and palms against the stoney pavement.

The massive front door of Hawthorne House slammed open. I fell back, and Nash Hawthorne stepped out. Even wearing a suit, he looked every inch the cowboy, ready to meet a rival at high noon.

I braced myself. Billions. Wars had been fought over less.

"Woah you alright?" He asked helping me up.

I nodded absentmindedly, I was always alright.

"Relax, kid." Nash's Texas drawl was slow and smooth, like whiskey. "I don't want the money. Never have. Far as I'm concerned, this is the universe having a bit of fun with folks who probably deserve it."

"You take care, darlin" He told me and walked off into the moonlight towards his beat up Harley.

"I need to get out of here." I spoke to no one in particular.

"I'm going with you," a soothing voice said. I turned. Issac Hart stood leaning next to the front door. I hadn't heard him open it.

"I don't need security," I told him. "I just need to get out of here."

"You'll need security for the rest of your life." He was so matter-of-fact, I couldn't even begin to argue. "But look on the bright side...." He nodded to the car that had picked us up at the airport. "I also drive."

He grinned at me.

"My sisters..."

He cut me off, "Being handled by Oren."

"Let's go then."

There was no way in hell I was waiting for them after the way they treated me.

I asked Isaac to take me to a motel. Instead, he drove me to the fanciest hotel I'd ever seen, and he must have taken the scenic route, because Alisa Ortega was waiting for us in the lobby.

"I've had a chance to read the will in full." Apparently, that was her version of hello. "I brought a copy for you. I suggest we retire to your room and go over the details."

"My room?" I repeated. The doormen were wearing tuxedos. There were six chandeliers in the lobby. Nearby, a woman was playing a five-foot-tall harp.

"I can't afford a room here."

Alisa gave me an almost pitying look. "Oh, honey," she said, then recovered her professionalism. "You own this hotel."

"Besides which," Alisa continued, "the will is now in probate. It may be some time before the money and properties are out of escrow, but in the meantime, McNamara, Ortega, and Jones will be picking up the tab for anything you need."

 "Is that a thing that law firms do?" I asked 

"You have probably gathered that Mr. Hawthorne was one of our most important clients," Alisa said delicately. "It would be more precise to say that he was our only client. And now..."

"Now," I said, the truth sinking in, "that client is me."

It took me almost an hour to read and reread and re-reread the will. Tobias Hawthorne had put only one condition on my inheritance.

"You're to live in Hawthorne House for one year, commencing no more than three days from now." Alisa had made that point at least twice already, but I couldn't get my brain to accept it.

"The only string attached to my inheriting billions of dollars is that I must move into a mansion."

"Correct."

"A mansion where a large number of the people who were expecting to inherit this money still live. And I can't kick them out."

"Barring extraordinary circumstances, also correct. If it's any consolation, it is a very large house."

"And if I refuse?" I asked. "Or if the Hawthorne family has me killed?"

"No one is going to have you killed," Alisa said calmly.

"I know you grew up around these people and everything," I told Alisa, trying to be diplomatic, "but they are totally, one hundred percent going to go all Lizzie Borden on me."

"Risk assessment: low," Issac rumbled. "At least insofar as axes are concerned."

It took me a sec to realise he was joking.

"Not funny." I grumbled 

"Believe me," he returned, "I know. But I also know the Hawthorne family.

The boys would never harm a woman, and the women will come for you in the courtroom, no axes involved."

"Besides," Alisa added, "in the state of Texas, if an heir dies while a will is in probate, the inheritance doesn't revert to the original estate—it becomes part of the heir's estate."

I have an estate? I thought dully. "And if I refuse to move in with them?" I asked again, a giant ball in my throat.

"If you fail to move into Hawthorne House in three days' time," Alisa told me, "your portion of the estate will be dispersed to charity."

"Not to Tobias Hawthorne's family?" I asked.

"No." Alisa's neutral mask slipped slightly. She'd known the Hawthornes for years. She might work for me now, but she couldn't be happy about that.

Could she?

"Your father wrote the will, right?" I said, trying to wrap my head around the insane situation I was in.

"In consultation with the other partners at the firm," Alisa confirmed.

"Did he tell you..." I tried to find a better way to phrase what I wanted to ask, then gave up. "Did he tell you why?"

Why had Tobias Hawthorne disinherited his family? Why leave everything to me?

"I don't think my father knows why," Alisa said. She peered at me, the neutral mask slipping once more. "Do you?"

*********************************************************

WC: 1263

Filler chapter