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I touched my neck. “Yeah, I found out last week. Didn’t I tell you?” When Cassie shook her head, I told her, “It’s a girl.”
“Yes!” Cassie cried out. “Girls are the best.”
I laughed, her excitement contagious.
“Have you thought of names yet?”
I shook my head. “I’m still trying to figure out my life, let alone name a baby.”
“Well, you should choose a name soon.”
I nodded.
“I can’t believe it,” Cassie said with a smile. “That’s so exciting.”
“It is,” I said. “It’s just overshadowed by all of this.”
Cassie didn’t know how to answer, and I didn’t blame her. It was a tough situation.
My phone rang, interrupting our conversation, and I was grateful. It was becoming strained. I picked it up and frowned at the caller ID that only flashedunknown.
“Who is it?” Cassie asked.
“I have no idea.” I pressed the phone against my ear. “Hello?”
“Is this Danna Rosenberg?” a male voice asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Who is this?”
“I’m Samuel Howell, a deceased estate lawyer with the Fae Board of Equality.”
“The what?” I glanced up at Cassie, who watched me with a frown, curious about what was going on.
“I take care of estates of the enchanted deceased who might not have left a will.”
“Enchanted?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”
“Ah,” Samuel said. “Forgive me, I mean to say…” He took a deep breath. “That is…” He cleared his throat. “You’re the only descendant of a Ms. Josephine Rosenberg. It took quite a while to find you. I was sure there would be no living relatives since, usually, the relatives of, er… well, I imagined you would be in touch.” He cleared his throat again, clearly uncomfortable.
“I don’t know who that is,” I said. I ran my fingers along my hairline before I pushed my hand into my hair.
“She was a great aunt, if I’m not mistaken. Her estate goes to you by law.”
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“Simply put… you’ve inherited a bit of money and a house from a deceased relative that we traced to your… bloodline.”
I blinked, looking at Cassie again, trying to understand what he was saying to me. How could this be? It was like an answer to a prayer I’d never uttered.
“When is a convenient time to meet?” he asked. “I’d like to do the handover as soon as possible, this estate has proved… difficult.” He paused so many times, as if he was trying to find the right words to explain what was going on. I didn’t know whoever died, so this call wasn’t a shock.
At least, it wasn’tthatkind of shock. It was a shock that I’d had anyone in my life who could look out for me.
I made a date and time with him, still in a daze.
“Where is this house?” I asked, my mind working again.
“In Portland, Oregon,” the lawyer said. “Once I hand over the deed and the keys, you’re free to do with it what you like.”
