The Inheritance

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The next morning, I woke up on the floor in my room groggily. The smell of meat was wafting in from the kitchen, causing me to sit up. I looked over to find that Maddie wasn’t in bed. The clock on the bed stand read 11:34 in the morning. 

I reached over and grabbed a hair tie off the floor, pulling back my tousled blonde locks, and made my way to the bathroom. Maddie was in the shower.

“Maddie, you okay?” I called out, knocking on the wall beside the shower. 

She stuck her head around the curtain and grinned. “Super,” she replied, wincing. 

“You don’t look super,” I retorted with a small half-smile.

She groaned. “Oh, I know. I have a killer headache. Don’t talk too loud.”

I laughed. “Okay, Mad. I’m going to leave you to finish your shower. I’m putting some pills on the counter for you to take. Only take three, okay? And there’s some water. Then go back to bed, and I’ll bring you some food.”

She smiled. “You’re the best.”

I grinned back at her, turning to leave. “Don’t you forget it!”

I walked down to the hall and over to the kitchen, finding my couple of idiots cooking breakfast.

“Making eggs?” I asked, leaning across the island.

Peter, Jon, and Ryan had obviously slept in the living room, because they were still here. Carly was sitting at the counter looking like a half-asleep zombie.

“You betcha!” Peter answered. “Your favorite.”

“Cheese eggs, extra cheesy?” I asked with a broad grin.

“With a pound of greasy bacon on the side.”

Jon walked up behind me and squeezed my hip. “It baffles me how you stay so fit.”

I smiled and poured myself a glass of orange juice. “Oh, come on guys, a girl’s gotta eat.”

The doorbell rang and Peter took off for the front door like a bullet.

“I’ll get it!”

I reached over and shoved a stick of bacon in my mouth. Jon scowled at me. “Beth, I’ve been cooking all morning and you just take some of the bacon!”

“I’m starving, Jonny-boo,” I replied, pouting.

Ryan snorted. “Yeah, Jonny-boo. Your girl’s hungry. And don’t bother to give Peter and Ryan any credit for the cooking.”

I grinned. “Ryan, your cooking is delicious.”

He smiled. “Thank you, B.”

“No problem, Ryan-boo.”

“Hey,” he said, pointing a finger at me warningly. “Save that for the bedroom.”

Jon shoved him in the shoulder. “Don’t hit on my girlfriend,” he warned. “Have you already begun drinking before twelve in the afternoon?”

“Oh, Lord,” I commented as I shook my head. “The police are gonna show up for you at any moment with the way you drink, Ryan.”

Peter reappeared in the doorway. “Beth.”

I grinned over at him, moving a piece of bacon around in my hand so that it swayed. “Are the police here about Ryan’s underage drinking?” I asked. “Tell them we don’t have any donuts. Just eggs.”

“It is the police,” Peter replied. His face was serious.

God, Peter could act. He was so good at playing along. Ryan’s eyes widened with uneasiness.

“Seriously?” I said, grinning. “Looking for underage drinkers?”

“I don’t know,” Peter replied. He shifted feet awkwardly. “They said they were looking for a Bethany Wallace.”

My smile faltered a little. 

I stood up and walked to the front door with Peter on my heel, thinking it was a prank, but my heart stopped when I saw two fully uniformed officers standing in the doorway.

“I’ll hide the alcohol,” Peter murmured in my ear before going back to the kitchen.

For some reason, I knew that wasn’t what the men were there for.

My first thought was that something had happened to my mom and dad. They had been off in the Bahamas for two weeks, and I hadn’t heard from them the day before. I felt my hands become clammy with nervousness and stuffed them into the back pockets of my sweats. 

With a shaky voice, I asked, “Can I help…” I cleared my throat and tried again. “Can I help you, officers?”

One of them stepped forward. “Miss Bethany Claire Wallace?”

I nodded. “Beth. Yes, that’s me,” I answered croakily.

They looked at each other awkwardly, sharing a feeling of dismay. I knew bad news was coming.

“Oh God,” I whispered, leaning against the doorframe for support. “Something has happened to my mom and dad, hasn’t it? What’s happened to them?”

They shared a confused look for a moment.

“Tell me what’s happened to them,” I breathed, feeling my throat close up. My legs were beginning to wobble with anticipation.

The policeman on my right stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder.”Bethany, we’re not here about your parents. We’re here about your aunt and uncle.”

I stared at them, confused. “What?”

“Your aunt and uncle Dianne and Ben Jones have been in an accident,” he told me. “They didn’t make it.”

My heart felt as though someone was dragging it across knives in my chest, squeezing it, ripping it.  I stepped out onto the porch with shaky legs and closed the door behind me, walking to the railing and clutching it tightly for support as I swayed with nausea. 

“I don’t understand why you’re telling me this,” I said after a while of burning silence. The more no one talked, the more it sunk in, and I had to say something. I couldn’t turn around to face them; I couldn’t meet their eyes. “Shouldn’t I have gotten a phone call or something? Why such a direct approach?”

And at that moment, I heard the words that would change my life forever.

“They left you their children.”