All too well ² // the fisher brothers

011

Eleanor 🎀

I walk down the stairs slowly, careful not to make a sound. As I near the bottom, I hear Conrad's voice coming from the living room. He's talking to someone on the phone, his tone serious.

"I know. But you're sure there's no way to access my trust without him?" Conrad says, his voice low and tense. I stop in my tracks, not wanting to interrupt but also too curious to turn back.

I glance behind me and see Jeremiah and Belly walking down the stairs. They're talking quietly, but I can't make out their words. Conrad's voice pulls my attention back to the living room.

"No, I haven't... talked to him about it just yet," Conrad says, confirming that he's on a call. "But, um, it won't be a problem. He's calling soon and I'll get him to sign off."

I step closer, now standing near the breakfast bar. I can see Conrad pacing, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck like he's stressed. "Okay. Yeah. Thank you," he says before ending the call.

"Morning," I say, trying to sound casual as I step into the room fully. Conrad looks up, clearly surprised to see me there. He nods in acknowledgment but doesn't say anything more.

Jeremiah steps forward, his expression serious. "You want to talk about a plan B?" he asks Conrad, his voice filled with concern.

Conrad's face tightens, and he shakes his head. "There's no time for a plan B, Jere," he replies, his frustration evident.

Jeremiah crosses his arms, not backing down. "There's no time? Come on, dude. Is your ego really that big, or is... ?" he starts, but I can't let him finish. The tension in the room is suffocating, and I need to defuse it before things get worse.

"I hope karma slaps you in the face before I do," I cut in, directing my words at Jeremiah. I can't help it—his attitude grates on my nerves.

Conrad glances between us, clearly torn between dealing with Jeremiah and the situation at hand. "Aunt Julia is already here," he says, dropping the bomb.

"What?" Jeremiah says, his shock evident. "You saw her?"

Conrad sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, we talked on the phone for about five seconds. She couldn't be bothered to come to Mom's funeral, but she'll hop on the first flight to come sell this place."

I can see the anger simmering beneath Conrad's calm exterior, and it makes my heart ache for him. Jeremiah, on the other hand, looks bewildered. "I don't get it. Why? What's the big rush?" he asks, genuinely confused.

"It doesn't matter why," Conrad snaps, his patience clearly wearing thin. "This isn't a game, okay? This is serious shit. So just go back to bed and let me deal with it." Without another word, he grabs his jacket and storms out of the house.

"That went well," Belly says dryly, breaking the heavy silence that follows.

Jeremiah sighs, running a hand over his face in frustration. "You know, he keeps saying he's going to figure things out. He hasn't figured out shit," he mutters, more to himself than anyone else. Then, he looks at me, his eyes pleading. "Can—can you talk some sense into him? You are the only person that can get through to Conrad."

I hesitate, torn between my loyalty to Conrad and my lingering resentment toward Jeremiah. "I would, but I don't have to listen to you," I say, my voice colder than I intended.