Inheritance [Michael Jackson FanFiction]

Chapter 7

Thank you everyone for reading my book ❤️ If you haven't commented yet I would love to hear what you think of it so far :)!

I found myself seated across from Mary at the wooden table in the corner. The soft glow of the lanterns illuminated the whole room, casting shadows that danced along the walls.

"Mary," I began, breaking the silence that hung between us. "Thank you for letting us stay here tonight. We really appreciate it."

Mary offered me a small nod, her expression guarded yet welcoming. "Don't mention it, Grace," she replied gruffly. "But don't go getting too comfortable. I don't usually take in strangers."

I nodded in understanding, respecting her cautious demeanour. "Of course not. We won't overstay our welcome," I assured her, eager to establish a sense of trust between us.

For a moment, there was an awkward pause in the conversation as we both seemed uncertain of what to say next. Sensing the need to break the ice, I offered her a tentative smile.

"So, Mary, tell me about yourself," I prompted, hoping to learn more about her

Mary's gaze softened slightly at my question, a hint of warmth seeping into her eyes.

"There's not much to tell, really," she said modestly, though there was a flicker of pride in her tone. "I've lived out here on my own for years, making do with what I have."

Interested in her simple yet intriguing life, I leaned forward, eager to hear more. "What made you choose to live out here, away from town?" I asked, genuinely curious about her reasons for solitude.

Mary hesitated for a moment as if considering her response. "I suppose you could say I prefer the quiet life," she admitted with a shrug. "And besides, I've never been one for crowds or busy streets."

As our conversation flowed, I couldn't help but steal glances out the window, where Michael was busy attending to the horses.

Mary must have noticed it because her gaze flickered with suspicion as it followed mine to Michael, her expression hardened with distrust.

"He seems like trouble, if you ask me," she remarked bluntly, her tone laced with caution. "I wouldn't trust him too easily, Grace."

My eyes stayed on Michael, observing the air of confidence he carried. "He's been a good friend," I replied tentatively, trying to defend him despite Mary's stubborn opinion. "I trust him."

Mary cocked an eyebrow, a hint of sarcasm lacing her words. "You trust a man with a past that's as clear as mud, do you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I retorted, unable to hide the irritation rising within me.

"Oh, nothing much," she replied nonchalantly, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Just that I wouldn't be so quick to put my faith in someone with a questionable past."

"Michael's a good guy," I defended. "You don't really know him."

"Maybe not ... but I don't think you do either" she admitted, her tone softer.

Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and Michael entered the room, carrying two saddles in his hands. His expression was unreadable as he glanced between Mary and me, sensing the tension that hung in the air.

"Everything okay in here?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

I nodded, giving Mary a look before focusing on Michael. "All good," I said, forcing a smile despite feeling uneasy.

As Michael settled the two saddles and bridles on a sturdy wooden rack by the door, I noticed the care he took in arranging them. He made sure everything was neat and tidy.