Finding You

Chapter ~~6

            I got off and went to the pickup station. There was a short man in a black uniform, holding a cardboard sign with my name on it. I went over to him and we went on our way. First he took me to a hotel. I checked in there and dropped off my stuff. By the time I did this it was about one o’clock in the afternoon. I had to be at the Mortuary at two thirty. I decided to have the driver drive me around the city. As we drove through the streets I stared out at the city that I used to call home. Things look as though they’ve changed since I left. Or maybe I was the one to change.

            At two thirty we pulled up at the Mortuary. I got out of the car and knocked on the front door. A girl opened the door just enough so that she could stick her head outside. She looked just a few years older than me. She had straight brown hair that reached just below her shoulders, and brown eyes.

            “Can I help you?” she asked.

            “Yes, I have an appointment.”

            “Okay come on in.” She opened the door fully and I walked in. I walked into what looked like the main room. The walls were a pale white and gave off the vibe of sadness. There were lines of coffins laying half open in a row. Overall the whole place was depressing. A middle aged man walked out from a door against the wall.

            “Hello you wouldn’t happen to be Ms. Navia Monroe would you?” I nodded. He looked shocked. “I’m John Skyton, the owner of this mortuary. I have to admit I was expecting someone older. I’m terribly sorry for what happened.” Be strong, I have to be strong. I chanted those words in my head over and over. I have to do this.

            “Thank you. I was told that some stuff was able to be salvaged from the fire.”

            “Yes, but someone that works for the city will be here shortly to go over that. You parent’s and your sister’s funeral is all planned. It is tomorrow at noon.” There was a knock at the door. “Pleases excuse me for a moment.”  Mr. Skyton went and answered the door. When he returned there was another man with him. The other man was wearing a black suit with a gray tie. He was carrying a black brief case. He looked like he was in his mid-forties.

            “Hello, I’m Mr. Waylen. I work for the city and I’m here to sort out your families properties.” I nodded once. “Mr. Skyton do you have a private room where I can talk with Ms. Monroe?”

            “Of course right this way.” He led us down a hall and into what looked like an office. He opened a door for us than left the other way. In the room there was a table, four chairs, and two paintings on the wall.

            “Okay Ms. Monroe” he said as he opened his brief case. “Your parents did have a will, leaving all their belongings to you and your sister. But since she wasn’t able to make it out of the fire, all of it goes to you. The money in your parents account is going to be put into an account for you. The house was found structurally unsound from the fire and was torn apart. The insurance that your parents bought gives you two choices. You can take the money that the house was insured for or the insurance will pay to have your house rebuilt. The choice is up to you.”

            “Can you put the money from the insurance in the same account with what my parents left?”

            “Yes I can. So you want the money?”

            “Yes.” Why do I feel so heartless talking about this? This shouldn’t be a time for business.

            There were a few more choices I had to make, and they seemed to get harder and harder as they went. After we talked over everything, I had a grand total of two point five million dollars in my account.