Chapter 2: Down the Hall

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I wake up later, not knowing how long I slept. I check my phone: 6:30 p.m. I got here at around three, and the tea and cakes still haven't been eaten, and I'm still so tired.

Wait.

Didn't Mrs. King say dinner was at 7 and not to be late? I don't know what will happen if I'm late, but I really don't want to find out. And shoot, I only have, like, 30 minutes to get ready if it doesn't take me 15 minutes to find the dining room. I look at the vanity on the wall opposite the balcony. I look horrible- I have bags under my eyes, my dark, usually sleek, brown hair is all over the place, and I look super tired (which I am). Uhg.

I drag myself out of bed and turn on the lamp on my bedside table. I open my suitcase and take out some clean clothes- a tight black crop top with frilled edges, black, red, and dark green plaid high-waisted pants, and my white Vans. I'm irritated I don't have any coats or jackets. They were in one of the suitcases that got lost (literally hating airlines so much right now), so I'll probably freeze to death before I get to the dining room- it's seriously that cold in here, and I can't find the stinkin' thermometer! I take it all to the bathroom, turning on every light switch as I go. I guess it must be with every old mansion, but Beckenridge Manor is old and musty-smelling, however much Mrs. King and her staff clean the place. (Yes, I was lying a bit when I complimented her on the cleaning of this place). Ultimately, especially right now when the sun is setting, this place is spooky. The dark exterior of the suite hallway doesn't exactly help either. When I reach the bathroom (which is just as cold as the bedroom by the way), I take a warm, hot, quick shower. At least now the bathroom is a bit warm. I change into my clothes, blow dry my hair because I don't think I'll have time to let it dry naturally, and suddenly, I look much better. Minus the bags under my eyes, of course.

After I'm done, I grab my phone, check the time (6:50) and take a pastry from the plate of food I was supposed to eat earlier, but didn't, and timidly open one of the suite doors, leading to the first corridor. I take one step onto the plush carpet (the same one the first hall had on the third floor, it kind of clashes with the white walls in the corridor, though), waiting for...I don't know actually.

A noise, maybe, that someone other than me that I can hear is in this big house. Of course, I don't hear anything. I wonder where the servants are. Probably in the kitchen which is...somewhere in this house. I feel a wave of loneliness about to crash over me, so to distract myself, I take my next step and keep on walking to the dining hall. Mrs. King said it was off to the side of the main hall, opposite the drawing-room which is on the right. I think Mrs. King also said something about meeting my Grandfather's personal lawyer, who I met earlier last week on a video call. I need to meet with him again to go finalize my inheritance of Grandfather's property. That includes all his money and vacation homes, and his cars, and other things he didn't give to other people in his will. Which technically makes me a millionaire because he was one and owned all that stuff. So, yay...? But there's a little glitch- my Grandfather's other lawyer, who dealt with his money and stuff, is in charge of my spending, allowance, vacations, etc, etc. Meaning I can't go crazy and splurge for things. I guess being a millionaire isn't all that it's cut out to be.

I keep on walking down the corridor, the last bits of sun peeking through the curtains making deep shadows across the wall (which are totally freaking me out right now because they look like disproportioned people with multiple body parts), then turn into the hallway. The electric lamps are on, and it's just as cold here as it was in the suite and the corridor. It's also spookier, and each end of the hallway seems to stretch on forever. I take the one that looks closest to the lights at its end.

So, I know you're probably thinking, don't you have tons of other relatives? Why didn't some of your Grandfather's things go to them? Why do you, a little heartbroken, lonely, orphaned, 13 year old have all his stuff? And I hear you! It's crazy, right? Well, the personal lawyer guy told me that some weird Beckenridge family rule is that you have to pass down your property and most of your belongings DIRECTLY DOWN THE FAMILY LINE unless your wife or husband is still alive but then they have to do it when they die. That means you can't leave everything to your siblings (unless your spouse is dead and you have no children), or your nieces and nephews, or your cat, or your whatever. You have to pass it directly. Down. The family. Line. Like seriously, to even get the family fortune you have to sign a document saying you will do that, and trust me, you want the family fortune.

Since my dad was an only child, and I was his only child, and he and my mom are dead, and Grandfather's dead, everything gets passed down to me. Me, perfectly normal, San Diego, Californian girl Victorie Beckenridge.

Sure, Grandfather had, what, eight siblings? (Which is where my distant cousins come into the picture), but if you own the family fortune, you got to pass it down directly, there's no other way. This is why I'm here and meeting this personal lawyer (I think his name is Gregory Winston) to sign that document stating I'll pass most of everything I have to my firstborn child. Document signing, here I come! I think, as I finally reach the grand staircase.

(A/N: Hi guys, I know this chapter was kind of boring, but we're almost to the fourth chapter, the more exciting one, so just bear with me on the next chapter please! Thanks!)

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