𝐏𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄𝐒 🝮 𝒳𝒶𝓃𝒹ℯ𝓇 ℋ𝒶𝓌𝓉𝒽ℴ𝓇𝓃ℯ

FOUR

[y/n]
----------

Libby, Avery, and I were deposited into wingback chairs as soon as we entered the Great Room, which was about a third smaller than the foyer.

The room was occupied by three older-lookimg gentlemen in suits- the lawyers, probably- who were later joined by Alisa, a couple who looked to be in their sixties at least, a man- Mr. Hawthorne's security guard- with his back to the wall, and Xander with what was clearly another one of the Hawthorne grandsons. He was much older- mid twenties, I'd guess- with shaggy hair in need of a trim and a suit paired with cowboy boots and a hat.

Definitely Nash.

Finally, an old woman- she looked even older than Mr. Hawthorne was- joined the fray. Nash offered her an arm, but she took Xander's instead. He led her straight towards Avery, Libby, and me. "This is Nan," he told us. "The woman. The legend."

"Get on with you." She swatted his arm. "I'm this rascal's great-grandmother." Nan settled into the seat next to me. "Older than dirt and twice as mean."

"I think you're delightful," I said sweetly, ever the kiss-ass.

"She's a softy," Xander assured us cheerfully. "And I'm her favorite."

"You are not my favorite," Nan grumbled.

"I'm everyone's favorite!" Xander grinned.

"Far too much like that incorrigible grandfather of yours," Nan grunted. She closed her eyes, and her hands shook slightly. "Awful man."

I could sense the underlying tenderness. She loved him. I loved him, too, but of course she didn't know that. Grief isn't an easy thing to overcome.

"Was Mr. Hawthorne your son?" Libby asked gently.

I knew he wasn't- his parents were never in the picture, really. They had died long ago.

Nan snorted. "Son-in-law."

"He was also her favorite," Xander clarified.

I knew it was probably crossing some lines, but, hesitantly, I reached out and gently held Nan's hand in mine. I felt the same grief she did, and I felt the need to comfort her. Surprisingly, she didn't pull away.

Libby was talking to Avery, but I really couldn't pay attention to what they were saying. Nan was looking me straight in the eye. I didn't even look when Avery got up and left the room.

"You remind me of my Toby," Nan said softly to me. "Bless that boy. He was too young."

My heart felt like it was going to shatter into a million pieces.

My father. She said I was like him.

I felt a tinge of pride, but... oh, God. She thought he really was dead. Should I tell her?

I tried to block out the thoughts, smiling tenderly at her.

"Well, Madame [y/n], it appears you have tamed the beast," Xander said, earning a nasty look from Nan.

"Oh, you pesk," she grumbled, pulling her hand from mine and smacking Xander's arm.

𖦷⁂𖦷

After a few minutes, Avery returned to the Great Room.

Jameson, the final Hawthorne grandson, had already joined us, and he was definitely drunk. I could tell.

"Now that everyone is here," one of the lawyers said, "let's get started."

The three lawyers stood in triangle formation, like some kind of cheerleader squad. God, this was so dramatic. The one who'd spoken shared Alisa's dark hair, brown skin, and self-assured expression- it was safe to assume he was the Ortega in McNamara, Ortega, and Jones. The other two stood to the either side.