Stealth & Fortune

ONE

Standing on the dark hardwood floor, my feet were tapping in a nervous beat. Why did he summon me to his office? Did he get tired of me already? Unbidden, thoughts of self-doubt started creeping in.

The constant ticking sound of the small clock on his table was unnerving me to no end, and so was his creepy dissected stag on the wall, staring right at me through its dark lifeless eyes. Ugh. I shuddered and clutched my handbag.

At last, the door flew open, and he made his way behind his wood-gleaming desk with a glass in his hand. Richard, my guardian, smacked something on the table and took a large swig of his whiskey.

I raised an eyebrow. "What is this?"

"Your receipt."

"Receipt? I haven't bought anything lately." I eyed the piece of paper dubiously.

"Not bought. Sold."

I tilted my head in confusion, "Sold? I haven't sold anything either."

"But I have. The money is already in your bank account, considering that it's rightfully yours."

"But—"

"Go on, see what it is." he gestured towards the paper. Reluctantly, I closed the distance for the table and grabbed the receipt.

HOUSE SALES RECEIPT

Receipt Number: 555-555

Date: 06/27/2021

Previous Owner's Name: Blair Spellman Red.

Previous Owner's Phone Number: +1 (999) 6478 2525

House Street Address: 312 Grand Street.

City/State/Zip: Casley Island, California, 90269.

Final sale price: $12,700,000

The moment I realized what was put up for sale, a murderous expression overtook my face and my nostrils flared. "What did you do?"

"What I had to."

"No you didn't have to," my fists clenched, "It wasn't even yours to begin with, It was mine!" I bellowed.

"And you knew it was the only thing I had left from my parents, so how could you?"

He sighed as a gloomy look settled on his face, "I'm sorry, Blair. I wasn't going to sell it. But you didn't heed my several warnings about stopping your little sneaking trips at night to go there— And I know it's hard, but you have to move on."

I can't. Not yet.

"What happened to the things and furniture inside the house? Did you sell them too?"

"No." He wiped a thin coat of sweat on his forehead, "They're getting moved to a warehouse for you to use them in the future."

"When?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Perfect. I'm going to the house right now." I said tersely. "And before you suggest anything, I'll go alone."

Richard held my gaze for a minute, until he finally bobbed his head. "As you please. But be back before it gets dark." I released a deep sigh and nodded, and without sparing him another glance, I strode off.

Tears stung in my eyes and I wiped them furiously away. How dare he sell the only thing I had left from my parents? With effort, I swallowed the lump in my throat.

I walked through a lengthy hall, and trudged down the white-marbled staircase into the elegant foyer. The mid-afternoon light slanted everywhere from the crystal chandelier, and a midsized glass table was perfectly reckoned in the center space. I opened one of the main doors and swung outside.