☘︎ Jᴇɴɴɪғᴇʀ Rʏsᴏɴ ☘︎
"Why are you sharp-shooting at the golf course, Mia?" I question, positioning my golf stick adjacent to the ball and narrowing my gaze at the red flagstick burried a few yards away on the neatly chopped fairway, pointing out one of the eighteen cylindrical goalie hole dug on the 7000 yards golf course.
One of the many charms of the Davidson estate, I've been told.
"Why are you leaving tonight?" Mia whines in answer, as an instructor holds out a sound-blocking headphone and an arm-length gun to her, "And I'm here because I want to spend time with you."
She was no longer in the wheelchair, her bedrest completely ditched within four days of enduring it. Clad in a polo shirt and a fitted skirt similar to my own-hers white in color and mine black-I had no idea what she was doing sharpshooting dressed in golf attire.
"I stayed a week here, Mia. You know that's way past my limit." I offer with a sigh, glancing her way, "Should you even be shooting right now?"
Mia shrugs with a conspiratory smile, adjusting the gun on her shoulder as the instructor swiddles away to release the frisbee to be shooted, "The doctor gave me the permission."
"Was it willingly given or threatened out of him?" I ask with a raised brow, knowing very well there was no willingness included.
"Why does it matter how? The point is I got the permission and I'm fine." Mia winks at me, "I'm stronger than you think I am."
Shaking my head at my sister, I focus back on the ball I'd been intending to aim into the goalie, "Why are you dressed in golf clothes when you aren't playing golf anyways?"
"Golf attire is cute. And I look pretty in it." Mia chirps happily, "You, on the other hand, Jenna, with that Kendal Jenner figure of yours, look sexy as hell."
"You're unbelievable." I smile, hitting the ball with a swing of the golfstick.
"Yay!" Mia squeals when the ball falls into the goalie hole in front of the red flagstick.
The smile still present, I turn to her, "Your turn."
Mia's grins, "Oh, you know I'm fantastic with guns and aiming."
She is. Mia's one of the best shooters I'd ever encountered. I'd been one too a long time ago before. . .everything happened. Now even thinking of holding a gun made me edgy.
"I think you should stay for Irene's funeral." Mia's sudden suggestion snaps me out of my thoughts.
"Mia-" I start but she gives me a look to convey she has more to say.
"Look I know what happened after we got away from the clown and with the incident, it makes you hesitant to face anything that's remotely connected to them. Trust me, sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night thinking I'm still at the warehouse and it's terrifying." Mia lowers her gun, giving me her full attention, "But Jenna, she's your mother. And you've never attended her funeral in twelve years since her death. Don't tell me you don't want to, I know you do."
"There's no point attending it now." I look away from her coaxing gaze.
Mia remains insistent, "I think you need the closure to let go of everything. For heaven's sake, it's been twelve years."
"You think Samuel would want me to attend? I didn't exactly 'not attend' the funerals before willingly." A scoff escapes me.
"Dad said you could." Mia declares, making me look back at her, "Infact, when I asked, he insisted you should if you can."
YOU ARE READING
The Secret Heiress | ✔️
Romance---▪︎ A Wattpad featured story ▪︎--- Twelve years ago, an incident changed my life. I was sent to London by my father with a new identity; all alone, away from my family and home, away from everything that was me. With a new persona as Jennifer Ryso...
