Dear Riley Walls,
Despite numerous attempts (see attached), we have been unable to contact you regarding the transfer of property title 6 Bellamy Lane, Glades Bay, bequeathed to you anonymously. This is your 60-day notice. If unclaimed, the property reverts to the next of kin, then to the Crown.
Please see the attached legal documents and contact me urgently.
Warm regards, Trevor Shells
Burnish Lawyers’ Wills & Estates Office
I turned the screen to Rick. “Behold the international prince’s new business model. They’ve gone full Law & Order.”
Rick squinted, opened the first PDF, then the second. His grin vanished.
“Ry… this isn’t a scam.”
“Course it is. No one leaves me a house. Not in my family.”
He spun the laptop back. Trevor Shells grinned from the law firm’s website like a toothpaste ad. Same signature, same letterhead, same phone number.
My stomach did a slow, queasy somersault.
Rick’s voice dropped. “6 Bellamy Lane. Isn’t that?—”
“Don’t.” I swallowed.
The same realisation had dawned on me the moment I saw Trevor’s face.
Rick reached across and closed the lid. “You have to call them.”
“And say what? Remember me? Cheers for the souvenir, here’s your house back—where do I send the ashes?”
“Either works,” Rick joked, but his eyes were looking dangerously close to giving sympathy. He nudged my foot. “Riley.”
I refused to meet his eyes.
“What if it’s real?” he asked.
My pulse hammered so hard I felt it in my teeth.
“It can’t be. Because then I’d have sixty days to decide if I’m stupid enough to walk back into the house that...” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.
Thirty years later and I still wasn’t sure if I’dalwaysbeen a dumpster-fire-hot-mess, or that house had warped me into one.
I reopened the laptop where Trevor Shells was still smiling.
Hi Trevor, Riley Walls here. Tell me about the house.
I clicked send, closing the screen again and the little whoosh shot out into the universe, meanwhile my hand started shaking so hard the table wobbled.
Rick exhaled, impressed. “Jesus. You actually did it.”
I stared at the screen, heart ricocheting.
Either I’d just inherited a warped miracle.
Or someone was giving me the keys to hell.
CHAPTER TWO
