Chapter 2: The will Nobody Wanted To Read

Chapter 2: The Will Nobody Wanted Read

The slap never landed, and it wasn't because I stopped it.

I was still watching my father's palm come down when a voice rang out behind him, so calm and so deep that his hand froze in the air.

"I wouldn't, Mr. Halvorsen."

Every head in the ballroom turned. A tall man in a dark suit stood in the open doorway, a leather folder tucked under his arm. He was exactly the man from my vision, down to the gray at his temples.

I almost let out a breath I had been holding since the cliff.

Elias Brandt. My grandfather's lawyer, and the closest thing Grandpa Walter ever had to a brother. When I was a child in the countryside, he would drive down to our village every summer behind my grandfather's old car, with a bag of legal papers in one hand and a bag of oranges in the other, just for me. After my grandfather's funeral, I never saw him again. In my last life, I had assumed he forgot about me.

I had been wrong.

My father lowered his hand slowly, his jaw tight. "Brandt. What are you doing in my house?"

"Your father's house," Elias said politely, "and I am here at his request."

A murmur rolled through the guests. A woman beside the dessert table whispered, "Isn't that Walter Halvorsen's lawyer?" Someone else answered, "I thought the estate was settled months ago."

So did I.

Elias walked across the ballroom with the unhurried steps of a man who had never needed to raise his voice. He stopped beside me, not in front of my father, not in front of Lydia. Beside me. Close enough that I could smell the faint scent of cedar on his coat, the same as in the village.

"Miss Tessa," he said quietly. "Happy birthday."

I nodded. It was all I could manage. Nobody had said those words to me all day, and I had forgotten how they sounded when someone meant them.

"Happy birthday?" my mother said sharply. She was still holding Lydia against her shoulder. "Mr. Brandt, my daughter has just poisoned her sister. This is not the time."

"Poisoned?" Elias turned his head and looked at Lydia for a long moment. "Is Miss Lydia unwell?"

Lydia let out a small, trembling cough. "I'm fine," she whispered. "Please, don't make a fuss for me."

Don't make a fuss. Don't look closely. Don't look at me.

The thought slid into my mind, quick and nervous, nothing like her usual sweetness. I kept my face still.

Why is he here? He was supposed to be turned away at the gate. I made sure of it.

I went cold. Turned away? What did she mean?

"Brandt." My father's voice was low and controlled again, the way it always was when he was holding back his temper. "My father's will was read last winter. Everything has been settled. If you have come for some other reason, this is not the time."

"The part of the will Mr. Walter permitted me to read last winter was read, yes," Elias said. "The remainder was sealed. He gave me specific instructions. It was to be opened tonight, at nine o'clock, the moment Miss Tessa turned eighteen, in front of the entire family."

The room went very quiet.

"That's not possible," my father said.

"I have it in writing, signed by three witnesses and a notary." Elias opened his folder and drew out a thick envelope. The wax seal on it was dark red, stamped with a crest I knew from the pendant hidden under my collar. "Mr. Walter anticipated that you would object. He asked me to tell you that he wasn't asking."

A few guests laughed under their breath, then stopped when my father glanced over.

"What will?" my mother asked, her voice tight. "Gregory, what is he talking about?"

My father didn't answer. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

I looked at the grandfather clock in the corner. Two minutes to nine.

Two minutes. After seventeen years of waiting, it was only two minutes. But it felt longer than the whole walk down from the countryside.

"This is absurd," my father said. "This is a family event, and I will not have it turned into a spectacle. Security, please escort Mr. Brandt out."

The two men in black jackets stepped forward. Elias didn't even look at them.

"Security is free to try," he said mildly. "But Mr. Walter's instructions are quite clear. If this will is not read tonight, it goes straight to the court, along with the full financial records he attached to it. I'm told those would be more embarrassing for the family than a birthday party."

My father stopped.

For the first time all night, he looked uncertain.

"Records?" my mother whispered. "What records?"

"Nothing," my father said too quickly. "Walter always liked to be dramatic."

Behind them, Callum shifted his weight. My younger brother had been standing silently at the back with his hands in his pockets, but now he stared at our father as if he were seeing him for the first time.

The clock began to strike.

One. Two. Three.

Lydia's fingers tightened on the edge of her chair.

Stop him. Somebody stop him. Somebody...

Four. Five. Six.

I felt something strange settle in my chest. It wasn't triumph yet. It was something quieter. For the first time in two lifetimes, I had a feeling that the ground beneath me was not about to give way.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

The last chime faded.

Elias broke the red seal with his thumb and unfolded the pages. "In the presence of the family, as Mr. Walter required," he said. "I will now read the final testament of Walter Halvorsen."

Nobody breathed.

"I, Walter Halvorsen, being of sound mind, hereby leave seventy percent of the shares of the Halvorsen Group, along with all voting rights attached to them, to my granddaughter, Tessa Halvorsen."

For a moment, I thought I had misheard.

Then a champagne glass hit the floor and shattered, and my father's face drained of every drop of color.

"Seventy percent?" my mother whispered.

"That's impossible," my father said hoarsely. "I own the controlling stake. Walter couldn't..."

Elias turned the page without looking up.

"The next clause," he said evenly, "concerns you, Mr. Halvorsen."