Page 159 of Dare To Fall

Throwing my head back, I scrub a hand over my face and into my hair. I need to get control of myself.

Wash. Shave. Get dressed. Go downstairs.

I list the steps I need to take.

I rub my hand over the eight days’ worth of growth on my chin.

Fuck it. I’m not shaving.

Sucking in a breath, I follow the first step and wash, then step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my waist.

What’s next?

Get dressed, idiot. Kellan rolls his eyes inside my head. Can’t have a funeral without you there, can I?

“I don’t want you to have a funeral at all. I want this all to be a big fucking joke.” I grab a second towel and dry my hair, then walk into the bedroom.

There’s a suit laid out on my bed. Black pants, black shirt, black tie, and a black jacket.

“I’m going to look like a fucking undertaker.”

But you’ll wear it because it’s what I want.

It was a shock to discover that Kellan had left instructions with his lawyer for what would happen if he died. Turns out he set everything up just after his eighteenth birthday, even the unconventional funeral he wants. I don’t know why I was surprised to discover that. Kellan has always been someone who has plans in place for everything. That’s why it’s him who’s dead and not me.

A stab of pain knifes through my heart. It should have been me lying on the altar, not him.

Stop it. Get dressed, stop fucking moping, and go downstairs.

I toss the towels to one side and pull on the clothes. Buttoning the shirt, I walk over to the full-length mirror on the closet door, so I can knot the tie. Once I’m dressed, I slip my feet into boots and pull open the door … just as Arabella comes out of her room a few doors down.

She’s dressed in a black knee-length dress and flat shoes. Her hair is in some kind of intricate braid down her back. She meets my gaze.

“Eli.”

That one word. My name. Her voice. It unravels something inside me, and I reduce the distance between us and palm her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

Her hands lift, glide over my shoulders and down my chest. She shakes her head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Her fingers find my tie and smooth over it. “Can I walk down with you?”

I drop my hands from her face and link my fingers with hers. We walk along the hallway and down the stairs in silence. When we reach my dad’s study, my steps falter and my tongue flicks out to toy with my lip ring.

Ari’s fingers squeeze mine.

“It’s okay.”

I glance at her and swallow. “It’s not. It’ll never be okay again.” I raise her fingers to my lips. “But it’ll get easier.”

I reach for the door and push it open. My dad, Elena, and a stranger are inside.

“Eli. Arabella. Come in and sit down.” My dad’s voice is somber. “This is Jackson Merrit, Kellan’s lawyer and executor of his will.”

The older man smiles sadly. “This won’t take long. I know you have a difficult day ahead.” He takes out an envelope from his pocket. “Kellan, as you know, was orphaned when he was a child. His parents’ entire estate was left in trust for him, which he gained access to on his eighteenth birthday. While he does have family, none of them were close to him. When he turned eighteen, being the diligent young man he is … was … he arranged his own will for, in his words, the very likely event of him dying young.”

My eyes close, the lump in my throat solidifying.

“Kellan made his wishes very clear. Twenty million was to be divided between his two aunts and uncle. The rest of the money, as well as all his material assets, is yours, Eli.”

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