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“Oh…are you not supposed to? I haven’t been around magic buildings much.”

Amelia laughed and shook her head as they walked upstairs.

Mira didn’t feel like leaving just yet. She wanted to explore more of the estate, but she knew it was futile. She wouldn’t recognize anything anyway. They walked back into the living room, and Mira begrudgingly pulled out her coin. Right before she could flip it, an older man with a briefcase materialized before them. He was barely taller than Mira.

“You’ve been gone for a long time,” he said, brushing off his clothes.

Mira closed her notebook, not sure how to respond. “I…um…yes, I suppose it’s been a while.”

“And who the fuck are you?” Amelia demanded.

He opened his briefcase, fumbling with papers. “Ah, yes, apologies. My name is Morpheus Brown. I’m the estate manager. When are you planning to return, Miss Winters?”

“Return? I…am not sure that I will.”

Morpheus’s hand went to his chest as if he’d been shot. “Is there something not to your liking?”

“No, it’s beautiful here.”

“Then what seems to be the matter?”

She looked at Amelia, who appeared equally confused. “I’m sorry, I really don’t seem to follow. Why is it so important that I like it here?”

“I’d say it’s important you feel at home, as the new owner.”

Amelia clasped her hands over her mouth.

Mira dropped her notebook. “What did you just say?”

“You’re the new owner of the estate,” he repeated.

“I’m not. You’ve got it wrong.”

“No, I can assure you, Miss Winters, I am not wrong. Mr. Dawson made sure the estate and his wealth would pass to you. He recently changed his will.”

Mira felt as if she was standing on ice and it had just cracked underneath her feet. Any moment now, she would fall through and plunge into cold water. Her head throbbed with pain.

Why would Dawson do that? Why would he put everything in her name? She couldn’t even recall the sound of his voice.

Next to her, Amelia began to cry because the implication was clear: If there was a will that had been released, it meant Aidric Dawson had died.

52

Mira stood still as she watched the always-cool-and-collected Wielder girl violently sob. She couldn’t help but feel guilty. Guilty for being part of the reason why Dawson was gone. Guilty for not feeling more at the news of his death.

She pulled Amelia into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

“We were worried about this,” Amelia said between sobs. “He was so distraught over what he’d done to you.” She shook her head and pulled out a silk handkerchief embossed with her initials and dried her tears. “We couldn’t talk any sense into him. He didn’t want to be around anyone. He was even more self-destructive than normal.”

Distraught. Over Mira. Had he really loved her then? It hadn’t been some sick game to him.

Mira turned to Morpheus. “When did he give you the will?”

He rummaged through his briefcase and fished out a scroll. “I received it about a week ago.”

Right around the time Obryn’s scrolls stopped going through to Dawson.

“There are a few papers for you to sign,” he said. “Just formalities, I assure you. I will be in touch.”