Storm's Target by Mary Stone

Storm's Target by Mary Stone

Author:Mary Stone [Stone, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-21T16:00:00+00:00


21

Though I’d intended to spend the day at home crafting a plan to deal with my older brother, my afternoon was interrupted by the call I’d been waiting to receive for weeks.

“I’m so sorry. Your mother suffered a series of strokes this morning and passed away.”

Each time I repeated the nurse’s solemn words in my head, I had to fight to keep a giddy smile off my face. Finally, that wretched woman was gone. No more of her nagging me to have some deep discussion about all the wrongs she’d done me.

How could she think a conversation now, more than twenty years after the fact, could help anything? It couldn’t. The only reason she’d even tried to mend fences with me was to make herself seem like a better person.

My healing never factored into her equation.

I knew the truth. I knew what a witch she really was, even if she tried to coddle my daughter in some pitiful attempt to reconcile with me. She was finally, blissfully gone, and unless her ghost had the ability to alter legal documents, I was about to come into a large inheritance.

All that was left was to accompany my brothers to a meeting with the lawyer so my twin and I could finally collect what was rightfully ours. As long as Eddie didn’t attempt some legal chicanery to pull the rug out from beneath us, life would be good.

Hopefully, he’d just take his reduced portion of our parents’ fortune and slither back to Colorado.

No matter. I wouldn’t let thoughts of my older brother derail my good spirits. With the warmth of the sun greeting me when I stepped out the front door, I left my worries on the porch as I advanced toward a sleek SUV at the curb. My driver was waiting.

The relief was palpable. My shoulders were lighter as I climbed into the back seat of the private car, and try as I might, I couldn’t recall the last time I was in such a good mood. Even my hunts didn’t clear my head like the news of my mother’s death. I could only imagine the sheer glee I’d experience from dancing on her corpse.

For the entirety of the drive, I kept my attention fixed on the buildings and houses we zipped past. If I spoke, I realized, my contentment would show. Though I was finished dealing with my mother, I didn’t want to let my mask slip, not even in the company of our everyday employees. For all the man in the driver’s seat knew, I was silent with grief.

Now, that was laughable. I held back a derisive snort. Thinking I’d grieve that old bat for even a second was ridiculous.

I shook it all off. I didn’t need to dwell on thoughts of my mother anymore. The bitch was gone, and soon, the worms would be feasting on her formaldehyde-infused carcass.

On arriving at a tall, sleek building on the outskirts of downtown, I thanked my driver and advised him to stay nearby.



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