***
The phone rang an hour later, jarring Kendra from her dismal thoughts. She sprinted for the phone before it could disturb Angel.
"Yes, hello?" She was breathless.
"Kendra Argil?"
"Yes. What can I do for you?" She warily asked.
"My name is Todd Litton. I'm a private attorney in Dillon, South Carolina."
"Who's suing me now?" She sighed, dropping into a scarred kitchen chair. The man on the other end of the line cleared his throat.
"No, you misunderstand me, Miss. Argil. I represent Alana Mason's estate."
"Aunt Alana? Estate...then she's-dead?"
"Yes, I'm extremely sorry to break the news to you in this way; I assumed you were aware of her passing."
"No, I didn’t know. When did she...pass? What happened?"
"Your Aunt Alana had a heart attack on Tuesday of last week."
"Eight days ago. Her funeral was over the weekend, then?" Kendra felt her own heart sink.
"The funeral was held at Sheffield’s on Saturday." Todd confirmed.
"I see. Well thank you for calling."
"That's not all, Kendra." He rushed before she could hang up. "Your aunt left you part of her estate."
"Excuse me?" She hadn’t spoken to her aunt in…she tried to do a fast calculation and came up frowning, half ashamed to admit that her math was a little fuzzy on the subject. Six years? Seven? A very long time anyway.
"The house in Lake View, one boat, and a sizeable amount of liquid assets all pass to you. You should receive a certified letter shortly but I wanted to get you on the phone as well. When can you make it in to my office to sign some papers and go over a few things? Unless you would rather handle everything by notary and fax?"
"She left everything to me?" Kendra exhaled, thoroughly in shock.
“Not everything, but the bulk of her estate passes to you, yes.” The man on the other end of the phone reiterated.
Kendra swallowed reflexively, winding and unwinding her fingers around the telephone cord and trying to wrap her mind around one person possessing so much, despite having no clue as to the dollar amount the old woman had bequeathed to her. A house and a boat on top of whatever cash had been left; Kendra’s numb brain processed that information, the knowledge that there had been even more only adding to her dazed state. "I'm in Chicago, so I'll need a week at least." She finally told her aunts lawyer, trying forcibly to pull herself together.
"Good then. How does next Friday work for you?"
"Sure. What time do you want to meet?"
"Anytime would be fine. Call me when you get into town and we can meet at your convenience."
Kendra took down the numbers the attorney dictated and disconnected the call. Aunt Alana was dead. She was going back to South Carolina. She was rich.
A cursory glance around the small space she rented confirmed the one fact that she was well aware of-there wasn’t much to pack. Really all she had to do was toss Angel in the car and go. But she hadn’t been lying when she’d told Mr. Litton that next Friday was about the first time they could meet-she had exactly seventy-two cents in her checking account until Monica issued her final paycheck.
“If I had a car, we could leave in the morning or even tonight, if we wanted to.” Kendra sighed. “Make that, if I had a car that actually works.” She amended, shooting Angel a wry glance. The fat orange cat was curled up in his usual corner, between the fireplace that didn’t work any better than the Buick and the small secondhand television that Kendra was pretty sure used to be color. She was surprised to see the animal’s eyes wide open and focused on her; she must have disturbed her after all.
“Well did you hear that Angel? Elena is gone. And…and we’re rich.” She repeated again. The words still felt cold and alien in her mouth. “I should have visited her more…”
Angel’s left ear pricked at the guiltily whispered admission.
“Yeah,” Kendra sighed, rising to her feet. “That’s life, right?”
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