THE PRICE OF inHERitance

Lizzie's Return

The next morning dawned gray and dreary, mirroring the weight that pressed heavily on Elliot's chest. After the shocking conversation with his father and Vivian, sleep had eluded him most of the night. The silence in the house felt suffocating, punctuated only by the steady ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs.

Clara stirred beside him as the morning light filtered through the curtains, her hand reaching out to rest gently on his arm. She hadn't said much after their conversation last night, but her presence had been a comforting anchor.

"What are you going to do, Elliot?" she asked softly, her voice still thick with sleep.

Elliot sighed, staring up at the ceiling as though it held the answers to his problems. "I don't know. I keep thinking there has to be another way, but the more I go over it, the more I realize... I don't have a choice. My father was right. If I refuse, we lose everything."

Clara sat up, brushing her hair out of her face. "I still don't understand why Lizzie can't be the solution. She's your sister, whether your father likes it or not."

"Lizzie's not part of this family in the way my father sees it," Elliot replied, though doubt gnawed at him. "She's lived abroad most of her life. And Aunt Eleanor barely knows her."

"Barely knowing her is better than forcing you to go through... all of that," Clara countered, her voice rising in frustration. "We should at least try talking to her."

Elliot sat up, running a hand through his hair. "I don't even know where she is. The last time I heard from Lizzie was over a year ago. She was in Italy, I think."

Clara got up from the bed, pacing across the room. "It's worth a shot, isn't it? Contact her. Explain the situation. Maybe she'd be willing to come back and deal with Aunt Eleanor. It's her inheritance too, in a way."

Elliot hesitated. Lizzie had always been a free spirit, never tied down by family obligations. While they had gotten along well enough growing up, their lives had diverged sharply after their mother's death. Lizzie's father had whisked her away to Europe, while Elliot had remained here in Greenhill Manor, bound by the expectations of the family legacy. Reaching out to her now, after all this time, felt like grasping at straws.

Still, Clara had a point. He couldn't go through with his father's plan. Not yet.

"I'll call her," Elliot said finally, standing up. "It's worth a try."

---

Lizzie Greenhill arrived at the estate later that afternoon, stepping out of a sleek black car with an air of casual confidence. Her long, dark hair was tied back in a messy bun, and she wore oversized sunglasses, which she removed with a dramatic flair as she glanced up at the looming manor.

"Well, well," she said with a smirk, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Home sweet home."

Elliot stood by the front entrance, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation at the sight of his half-sister. Lizzie was exactly as he remembered her—vibrant, unpredictable, and completely unconcerned with the formalities of the Greenhill family. She wore a leather jacket over a simple T-shirt and jeans, a stark contrast to the traditional elegance that typically surrounded the estate.

"Lizzie," he greeted her, stepping forward. "I'm glad you came."

She grinned and threw her arms around him in an exaggerated hug. "Of course, I came. How could I resist when my dear little brother called me out of the blue with such an intriguing story?"

Elliot couldn't help but chuckle, despite the tension that still knotted his stomach. "Thanks for coming. It means a lot."

Lizzie stepped back, surveying the manor with a critical eye. "So, what's all this about Aunt Eleanor and an inheritance? I haven't heard from her in... well, forever."