“Yes.” Alaric plopped his satchel in front of me and dug through it, pulling out papers. “Your father has left town.”Not the chicken incident. Okay?“Permanently.”
Oh.My world came to an abrupt stop as his words sank in because of what they meant.
My father had always said he planned to up and leave one day for a grand journey, something about a search for the dragons. “It’s in our blood,” he’d say because his father went on the same kind of adventure, the differences being (1) he didn’t abandon everything to do so, and (2) he actually found dragons—oradragon, to be specific. But it couldn’t fly and had been badly injured by poachers. Thus, the family sanctuary for magical creatures was born. My family’s greatest treasure, the town’s pride and joy.
But I never believed he would do the same. Or had the adventurous spirit even.
He actually did it. He did it and he didn’t… he never tried to—I shouldn’t have been surprised he hadn’t reached out. We weren’t close anymore. It was that exact family legacy I’d left behind, after all. Swallowing, I resumed my place in the conversation. “And this is relevant to me how?”
Alaric’s glare poured into me; his downturned eyes were heavy. Bored, tired, or irritated, he didn’t seem to enjoy his work. “He’s left the sanctuary to you.”
Oh. My. Gods.If my pathetic excuse of a stern look and straight spine somehow managed to hide my nervousness beforehand, it definitely showed through now. I dropped my jaw and gawked as if I’d heard him wrong. Maybe I had. The whole thing… my family’s life’s work… their legacy. The room started shrinking. “He—he, um”—I shook my head—“he what?”
“Your father has left McCarthen’s Sanctuary for Magical Creatures to you.”
A home for animals that had been injured, mistreated, and even tortured for their magical qualities.
I blinked rapidly. No… it wasn’t possible. “Are you sure? He actually signed it over to me? Reece McCarthen?” Alaric’s deadpan stare told me he was tired of ridiculous questions. “When did this happen? Did he leave a note, a letter, or anything at all?”
“He contacted us three days ago to update the sanctuary’s pass of ownership. We were notified by a neighbor of his departure. I do not have the other answers you seek.”
Fair enough. “Has he already left?”
“To my understanding.”
I huffed, unsurprised at my father’s lack of communication with his own daughter. One might think leaving with no planned return date would call for a letter at the very least, but not with Chester McCarthen. No, after my mother died, his grief had consumed him. He shut out everyone that wasn’t a magical creature, including me—especially me. Shaking it off, I resumed the conversation. “Who’s watching it right now?”
“Family friend.”
“Right.” Probably Harvey Stiller, my father’s friend. Too bad he couldn’t keep it. He and his wife owned the town bakery. I squeezed my hands into fists. “And what am I supposed to do with it, then?”
Alaric unfolded his hands and straightened his spine. “You have two options. One: sell it. Two: own it.”
Own it? The words repeated in my head. My jaw tightened, stressed. My whole life would be uprooted. The life I’d built and worked for, the relationships, the shop. Biting my cheek, I contemplated if I’d be able to do this. To care for all of the magical creatures. I couldn’t tell if my heart pounded or didn’t beat at all. I felt numb.
Everything in me wanted to screamno, to say I didn’t want to get sucked back in, to yell that I’d closed the door to that life and made a new one here. But I couldn’t. The thought of returning home to Honey Brooke had my stomach roiling, my head aching, and a sort of bitterness biting up to the surface.
Old memories flashed in my mind, images branded into me for self-torture. The flames engulfing the town center. The screams. The glares. The whispers when Laken left.
“What happens to the creatures if I sell?”
Alaric shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, Ms. McCarthen, if you are unwilling to take it over, you could at the very least make a profit in relinquishing it. There is always interest in magical creatures.” Meaning they’d be sold to the highest offer.Gods.I knew where most of them came from, the horrors they’d escaped. The slight flinch in the corner of his eyes, the way his lips pulled tight… it was the first time throughout this entire conversation I’d seen a legit reaction from him.
I leaned until my head hit wood. Then, I sat there, face down.
“There is always interest in magical creatures…”
Those animals were rescues pulled from unimaginable places and found in despicable conditions. They were rare, special. I still cared for them, despite our… history.
Born and raised surrounded by the creatures, I’d dreamed of running the place as a child. My family had filled it with love and joy and a light I hadn’t seen since my mother passed.
I had been pushed away and shoved to the side, my father refusing to teach me. After I (accidentally) burned the town center and lost who I thought was the love of my life, I left what I thought of as home behind.
Returning terrified me. The town saw the sanctuary as something to be proud of. They saw me as a lost cause. A charity case. A poor thing. I became trapped in the cage I was born in. So I escaped, I ran, and I never looked back. I didn’t have a reason to. Until now.
“Ms. McCarthen,” Alaric called. “I need an answer if you are well enough to give one.”
Shit.Groaning, I sat up. What I wanted to offer was a fake smile and a foot up the ass, but I settled for the first.
