Chapter One

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"Charlotte Bea Grambs?"

I looked up from my desk, pulling my earphones out. The office aid looking at me expectantly, "You are wanted in the office."

I shoved my earphones in my pocket and grabbed my books, stuffing them in my backpack, "Uh, yeah, okay," I followed the office aid out of the classroom.

I walked through the hallway, the clacking of the office aids heels the only sound. What i wasn't expecting was Mr Altman, the principal sitting in the waiting room outside his office. He smiled at me, "Charlotte, if you would please step into my office," I watched as the office aid sat in the waiting room as well and i frowned as Mr Altman made no attempt to follow me into his office.

I opened the door and saw two familiar faces in chairs, "Ave? Libby?" I watched as the girls turned towards me and Libby beamed, she was about to say something when i heard another voice, "Charlotte Bea Grambs, I presume?" 

I look over and see that seated in the chair behind the principal's desk was a guy who looked to be not much older than me. The guy was incredibly handsome, he had light blonde hair and pale grey eyes that border on silver. He was wearing a grey tailored suit that looked more expensive than my book collection.

I nod and sit down, "Uh, yeah, its.." I clear my throat.

"Just call me Charlie," he nods and turns his attention to Avery, who nudges me and smirks which quickly fades as she opens her mouth, "Is Dad..."

"Your father is fine," The boy spoke.

"As of yesterday," he continued, his low, rich voice measure and precise, "Ricky Grambs was alive, well, and safely passed out in a motel room in Michigan, an hour outside of Detroit."

I blinked, aware of the fact that this boy somehow knew exactly where and when our deadbeat father was when we didn't even know, I was about to speak when Avery beat me to it, "How could you possibly know that?" She demanded.

 "You asked how I know where you fatheris." His eyes grey eyes glanced at me as he spoke. "Itwould be best, for the moment, for you to just assume that I know everything."His voice would have been pleasant to listen to if it weren't for the words. 

"Aguy who thinks he knows everything. Thats new," Avery muttered causing me to smirk.

"A girl with arazor-sharp tongue," he returned, silver eyes focused on hers, the ends of hislips ticking upward.

"Who are you?" I asked. "And what do you want?" With me,something inside me added. What do you want with me?

"All I want," he said, "isto deliver a message." For reasons I couldn't quite pinpoint, my heart startedbeating faster. "One that has proven rather difficult to send via traditional means." 

"That might be myfault," Libby volunteered sheepishly beside me. "What might be your fault?" Iturned to look at her, grateful for an excuse to look away from Grey Eyes andfighting the urge to glance back. 

"The first thing you need to know," Libbysaid, as earnestly as anyone wearing skull-print scrubs had ever said anything,"is that I had no idea the letters were real." 

"What letters?" Avery asked. 

"Theletters," the boy in the suit said, his voice wrapping around me, "that mygrandfather's attorneys have been sending, certified mail, to your residencefor the better part of three weeks."

 "I thought they were a scam," Libby told us.

"I assure you," the boy replied silkily, "they are not." I knew better thanto put any confidence in the assurances of good-looking guys. 

"Let me startagain." He folded his hands on the desk between us, the thumb of his right handlightly circling the cuff link on his left wrist. "My name is GraysonHawthorne. I'm here on behalf of McNamara, Ortega, and Jones, a Dallas-basedlaw firm representing my grandfather's estate." Grayson's pale eyes met Avery's then mine."My grandfather passed away earlier this month." A weighty pause. "His name wasTobias Hawthorne." Grayson studied my reaction "Does that name mean anything to you?" 

"No," I said, my lips slightly tilting upwards "Should it?" 

"My grandfather was a verywealthy man. And it appears that, along with our family and peoplewho worked for him for years, the both of you have been named in his will." 

I heard thewords but couldn't process them. "His what?"

"His will," Grayson repeated, aslight smile crossing his lips. "I don't know what he left you, exactly, butyour presence is required at the will's reading. We've been postponing it forweeks." 

"Why would your grandfather leave anything to us?" Avery asked. 

Grayson stood, his eyes locking on mine "That's the question of the hour, isn't it?" 



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⏰ Last updated: Apr 11 ⏰

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