Page 62 of Heartless Legacy

The smile I force onto my face is definitely inappropriate for the position I find myself in. I’m not safe. Not here. Not with him, and I know there’s nothing stopping him from coming for me again.

“Is something funny, little girl?”

“Just happy to be back and ready to be of service, most honorable mid-level councilman Cox, sir.” I place extra emphasis on themid-levelpart.

His eyes narrow at my very dishonorable tone. “How did you escape? Who helped you?”

His question catches me off guard. Does he really not know? Is he really clueless about his buddy double crossing him? Is hethat convinced that he’s all powerful and in control? Well shit, I’m not gonna be the one to tell him.

Malcolm’s day of reckoning is coming, and in the meantime, I’m fine with sitting back and watching him second guess everyone and everything around him. Instead, I say, “My lawyer helped me. She got the charges dropped for lack of evidence, and the judge released me.”

His brows furrow as he ponders if what I’ve said is true. I see him mulling over the possibility that somehow I was transferred from Rockridge and sent back to jail. He’ll need to track down Lazarro and the psychotic doctor to get a different sequence of events. But since Lazarro is already working against him, I doubt he’ll confess that he kidnapped me from my kidnapper to sell me off to the highest bidder.

“Prospect LaReaux, I’m glad I caught you.” Someone says from behind me. The man’s steps are quiet as he appears at my side. He’s the one who was asking all the questions about Joshua’s, I meanHailee’s,money. “I have a few documents for you to sign regarding today’s tribunal.” He walks past Malcolm and calls out, “Follow me.”

I don’t know this man and should probably take a few minutes to think about the dangers of walking off with a stranger, but I don’t. I’d rather take my chances with him than with Malcolm.

He leads me through the winding corridors and down the stairs to the archive room, then passed the counter, weaving through the stack of bookshelves. “I’m sorry I don’t recognize you, councilman…”

“Ryland, and I’m not on the council. I’m a prospect, just like you.” He glances over his shoulder and amends, “Not just like you. I’m a third-year prospect and a grad student.”

We come to a desk and he pulls out a chair, motioning for me to take a seat, before going over to a printer to retrieve a stack ofpapers. “This is the transcript of today’s tribunal. We’ll go over it together. Feel free to ask any questions you have before signing it.”

“How did you know about my mother’s trust fund?” I ask. “Is that something all third-year prospects get tested on?”

“No.” He chuckles. “That would be a violation of so many things. I know about it, because it’s a part of my family history. We all have trust funds, and our lawyers and accountants keep detailed notes about spending.”

“I’m not following what your family situation has to do with anything.”

“Hailee’s my cousin.”

My mouth gapes open and then closes. I shouldn’t be shocked. This is my new normal. This town just keeps giving me relatives I never asked for and I’m not so sure I want. I was only just getting used to Van and Joshua orbiting me. Then there was the bomb dropped in my lap that was Alexzander Moreau. But here we go again.

I glance down at the document he’s placed in front of me as I gather my thoughts. It lists the names of all the people in attendance today. There were two second-year prospects on the dais. “I didn’t know prospects had decision-making authority.”

“We don’t, but we can make suggestions to be routed to the high council. You’ve learned that during indoctrination, right?” I nod. “Well, what they don’t tell you is when things like a special tribunal are called, we sit on the jury too, just to make sure the panel has a diverse pool of opinions to consider.”

“Have you sat on many tribunals?”

“A few. I turn down more invitations than I accept.”

“Why?”

“Why am I invited? Because I help in the archives.”

“No, I mean, why do you turn them down? Or why didn’t you turn this one down?”

He laughs again. “My answer is the same. I work in the archives with my father, who is also our family’s estate attorney. He’s the one who noticed Hailee’s trust fund hadn’t been touched, so I agreed to sit on the tribunal so I could ask about it.”

“He just noticed?”

“No. He’s mentioned it several times over the years. We figured it wasn’t being touched because Hailee didn’t want her withdrawals traced back to her. But when you came to town, and…” He pauses, and another voice picks up where he left off.

Clayton, the man with the ledger, joins us and says, “When you came to town and told us Hailee disappeared, we thought Joshua would file the paperwork to declare her legally...” His voice trails off, too.

“Dead.” I supply without emotion.

“Yes. At which point the trust would have gone to Moira. The paperwork never came across my desk.” He gives me a kind smile and introduces himself. “Hello, Thea. I’m Clayton Montrose. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

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