Page 1 of A Fate Everlasting

1

The man at the door looked like death himself. Through the fogged glass, I took in the black mourning suit, the polished shoes, the steady tap of his foot.Strange.

I hadn’t answered the door in three days. The executor of the will would be the first face I’d seen since the accident. The thought was not a comfort, but I’d run out of ways to practice avoidance. The knock still echoed in my ears as I turned the handle.

“Hello, Arabella Davenant,” the executor said, his voice practiced. He stepped inside.

“Let’s get this over with.” I didn’t want to do this, but avoiding it wouldn’t bring them back.

The executor’s eyes scanned over the marble statues that stood guard in the foyer. He reached toward one of St. Michael, fingers almost brushing against it, then pulled back.

I guided him to the dining room. My heart twisted as he settled into my father’s chair, snapping open his leather briefcase. A strange pressure rolled across the room, the kind that makes your ears pop on a plane. It vanished in a blink, leaving no trace. I wondered for a moment if I was losing my mind.

“You are currently nineteen, correct?” he asked, not looking at me as he arranged his papers across the polished table. No small talk. Good. I preferred that.

“For a few more months,” I managed. Nineteen was legal. Nineteen was old enough to inherit without question.

“That’s not what I asked,” he said curtly. I bristled at his detached demeanor, the audacity of delivering tragedy as if it were paperwork to file away. “I just need verbal confirmation.”

“Yes. Almost twenty.” I nodded. I didn’t know why I felt the need to justify myself, as if a matter of months changed whether I could handle inheriting everything my parents left behind. I knew I could. I’d been responsible for myself for years.

I willed him silently to get on with it, to read the will and testament and confirm what I stood to inherit.

Instead, he pressed on with the formalities. “You are the sole child of Dr. Evangeline Davenant and Dr. Fredrick Davenant?”

The grief of hearing their names was so raw it ached to breathe. I nodded once. Surely there wouldn’t be many more questions.

He clicked the papers against the table, and looked up. “That’s a lovely necklace,” he said abruptly.

So much for no small talk. My hand stilled against the pendant. I hadn’t realized I was touching it. It still smelled faintly of my mother, of pepper and rose. She’d given it to me the day before she died. I clung to it like it could anchor me here, in the before.

“Thank you,” I replied.

“Would you like me to hold it for safekeeping?” He glanced pointedly at his paperwork. “It’s listed here as quite valuable.”

“No,”I said through gritted teeth. Then, with as much politeness as I could manage I added, “Can we continue, please?”

“It would be for your own protection,” he saidfinally. I stared him down. “Alright then. I’m afraid I have some unfortunate news.”

“I’ve just received the most unfortunate news of my life. My parents are dead. I doubt anything you say could possibly make it worse.”

The executor gave a sad smile. “Your parents placed a condition in their will. One that directly concerns you.”

My heart stalled. “Condition?”

“They’ve stipulated that to inherit your estate in full you must complete your education at a school called Evermore College. Graduation is required.”

“What?”No. My parents knew I’d just been accepted to LADA, theLos Angeles School of Dramatic Arts.It was supposed to be the beginning of my acting career. “That can’t be right. Show me.”

He tapped the tabbed section of the contract. There it was, in black and white. I’d get no inheritance until I turned twenty-one,unlessI graduated from Evermore College. The language was clear.

I slammed my phone down hard enough to splinter the screen. Something sparked in my chest. After years of absence disguised as affection, this was what they left behind? A pitiful attempt at control, at parenting. All too late.

He shook his head slowly, pity etched into the corners of his mouth. “It is unusual. But unless you complete your degree at Evermore, your assets—every cent, this property—all remains in trust. Frozen.”

“And if I refuse?” The words tasted like copper.

“You’re free to refuse,” he said. “That is your right. But if you do, you walk away with nothing.”

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