"Are you coming? We have to go quick!"
I raced along the verendah then slid down the great big bannister. It was hard to imagine I had inherited this old place. My Aunt Agness was the best. I could always count on her to show me the right path. This beach house has come as a God send. It has been a month since aunt passed on to the golden gates of heaven. The legalities of pronouncing her dead took a little longer then was normal. Aunt had died in her watery grave off the coast of Mauritious.
If you haven't yet guessed Aunt Agness was a bonefied richy rich. A self made multi-millionnaire with her own chain of retail outlets. The thing with Aunt Agness was that she really isn't even my aunt. She was just some old hag I had unwittingly befriended the last time I visited this beachfront. I had been fifteen at the time and was moaning over the rejection of my first crush.
I think Aunt Agness, as she told me to call her, had found great amusement in my woes but that didn't matter, as whatever I had been expecting, which really was nothing, so it sure as hell hadn't been this here luscious property facing the waterfront framed with the longest and whitest of sandy beaches.
Pure heaven on earth. A private paradise all for me.
I couldn't hold back the squeal for joy as I rushed about the place like mad.
"You sure hit the jackpot with this, sis."
I turned to face my twin brother. We were identical. Only he was way tall, brawny and beautiful, while I was just fat.
We both had golden brown hair with bewitching green eyes and perfect features but my fatness ruined my looks while Lucian suffered from being unnaturally beautiful for a guy. Yep he got labled a gay all the time. So we both have crappy love lives. Him fighting off unwanted male admirers and I fighting for any male admirer... at all.
We were as thick as thieves, so when the stranger in the suit had turned up on my front lawn asking for a , " Miss Synthia Rodgers." I got Lucian to accompany my to his office in the city to complete the paperworks. It took about a week to produce the proof of identifications and then have the property registered in my name.
But here we now were, two exuberant eighteen year olds with our first owned property.
In signing the necessary documentation, we had gone home and packed then without ceremony announced to our beloved but workaholic parents that we were moving out for good. Surprisingly, they had not murmured objections but had instead gone all out to support us saying it was good that we were being independent in this.
So here we were. All we have to do now is unpack and then look for a job.
