It’s dated exactly a week before Grandpa’s accident three years ago that led to his coma.
Kane’s final will and testament.” My throat tightens as I break the seal and pull out my letter. “You’re required to read his individual letters prior to me reviewing Mr. The lawyer finishes passing out the other letters to my two brothers. I flip it over, finding it untampered with his signature Dreamland’s Princess Cara’s Castle wax seal. My name is written across the front in my grandpa’s elegant cursive. This is going to be one hell of a long night. Your grandfather-” I tune him out with a nod. His cheeks flush as he tucks his hand back into his pocket. I look down at it like he might transfer a disease. A woman pulls out a tissue from her purse to dab her dry eyes while her counterpart offers us his hand to shake. An unknown couple walks up to the three of us. Especially when all the people we associate with have a moral compass pointed permanently toward hell. That kind of fake treatment is to be expected. The only reason guests take the time to speak to us is because they want to stay within our good graces. I might have been born last, but I most certainly wasn’t born yesterday. I’m somewhat jealous of Declan since people typically talk to me first, mistaking me as the nicest child because I happen to be the youngest. His suit matches his dark hair, which only adds to his cloak and dagger look. My oldest brother has intimidating people down to a science, with everyone avoiding his pitch-black stare.
He stares at the crowd of people with an unrelenting scowl. “I’m sorry for your loss, son.” A nameless attendee interrupts my thoughts. I run a hand through my dark hair to give myself something to do. I’ve had time to prepare while he was in a coma yet the strange sensation above my rib cage returns with a vengeance whenever I think of him. I don’t know why it bothers me as much as it does. The burning sensation in my chest intensifies. There are only a few individuals I tolerate, and my grandfather was one of them. If there’s anything I hate more than funerals, it’s talking to people. My patience wanes as the hours go on, with hundreds of Kane employees and business partners offering their condolences. It’s nearly impossible, with my skin itching like I’m wearing a cheap polyester suit. But due to my responsibilities as my late grandfather’s youngest relative, I’m expected to stand tall and unbothered during his wake. It’s been over two decades since that day, and while I’ve completely changed as a person, my aversion to mourning hasn’t. The story made headlines after I threw myself into my mother’s open grave. T 1 ROWAN he last time I attended a funeral, I ended up with a broken arm.
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