Unexpected Inheritance

1

"I think some of those answers might be inside. Shall we?"

Miranda glanced at Callie, who shrugged and gave her a reassuring smile. Together, they followed the lawyer into the house.

The interior of the house was stunning. It had an old-world charm with polished wooden floors, a grand staircase visible from the entrance, and light streaming through tall windows draped with delicate lace curtains. The living room featured a massive stone fireplace flanked by built-in bookshelves, and the kitchen, where they now sat, was both cozy and elegant with its farmhouse sink, butcher block counters, and a vintage chandelier hanging over the table.

Callie was immediately enchanted. "This is incredible," she said, her eyes darting around the room. "Do you realize how lucky you are? This is like every city girl's dream come true—a gorgeous countryside retreat, perfect for weekend getaways, or maybe a little self-discovery..."

"I don't need self-discovery. I need answers."

The lawyer sat down across from them and opened a leather folder and began laying out paperwork. "The property is in remarkably good condition," he began. "Mrs. Bradford maintained it meticulously. The house itself is over a hundred years old, and the outbuildings include a carriage house that's been converted into additional guest quarters, a small barn, and a greenhouse. It's all fully furnished and ready to operate as a bed and breakfast, just as she left it."

"Fully furnished?" Callie echoed, her enthusiasm undiminished. "This is like walking into a fairy tale."

"Okay, the property's great," Miranda cut in, her tone clipped. "But none of this answers the real question. Why me? I've never met Eleanor Bradford, and she's never been mentioned as anything more than a distant relative."

"Eleanor didn't leave a letter or explanation in her will. However, she was very specific in naming you as her sole heir. From what I've been able to piece together, she spent much of her life here and rarely ventured far. It's possible she felt some connection to your family through shared lineage. Beyond that... I'm afraid I can only speculate."

"Speculate? That's not good enough."

"Maybe she saw something of herself in you," Callie chimed in, picking up one of the papers. "I mean, come on, Miranda. You're sharp, you're dedicated, and you've got the kind of no-nonsense attitude that could whip a place like this into shape. Maybe she thought you were the best person to take care of it."

"Or," Miranda said dryly, "she didn't have anyone else to dump it on."

Mr.Henshaw smiled faintly. "That's unlikely. Eleanor was a meticulous planner. This wasn't a random choice. Perhaps the answers lie in the house itself. There are personal items, journals, and records Mrs. Bradford left behind. She was an avid collector of family history."

Callie's eyes lit up. "Oh, a mystery. I'll bet we'll find some juicy secrets in the attic."

"I'm not interested in secrets," Miranda said firmly. "I just want to know if this is a mistake. What if she meant to leave it to someone else?"

"The will is clear and properly executed. Legally, the property is yours, Dr. Bailey."

Miranda sat back in her chair, her gaze sweeping over the kitchen. Her father's words echoed in her mind: Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. But Miranda didn't believe in blessings that came without reason. There was something here, some thread of connection she didn't yet see.

"All right," she said finally, her tone measured. "I'll take a look at those records. But let's be clear—I don't know what I'm going to do with this place yet."