Page 4 of The Last Morgan
As she crept closer, she could just make out what he was saying.
“Her family was murdered… she’s the sole heir to a fortune… I’ll keep an eye on her, but I’m convinced they want her dead.”
Lucy’s breath caught.
Carter’s voice lowered even further. “Please, train her. Do what you can. She has to be able to protect herself.”
The words landed like a blow to the chest.
Before she could step away, the door creaked open.
Carter stood in the frame, his mother beside him, both staring at her.
Lucy froze. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mouth dry.
She had no idea what she had just walked into — but somehow, she knew this was the beginning of everything.
Chapter 4
That first night with the Oxleys — her new family — was the second most terrifying night of Lucy’s life. The worst had already been burned into her memory, and this one came close behind. But as the days passed, something began to shift.
Her past started to blur around the edges, retreating into the background as the present began to take up more space in her mind.
That morning, she walked into the kitchen with a quiet mix of fear and curiosity. Mary — Carter’s mum and the head of the house — was already moving around with practiced grace. She had taken care of many children over the years, and it showed. There was a calmness in the way she moved, an unspoken wisdom in how she handled those around her. She seemed to know exactly how to settle an unsettled soul.
The smell of food pulled Lucy forward. She sat at the large table, her eyes drawn to the steaming plates just being served. Mary placed the plate in front of her — bacon, eggs, sausages, toast, mushrooms, and a tall glass of apple juice. Lucy’s stomach growled in response. She hadn’t eaten properly in days, and the sight of that plate felt like a lifeline.
“Eat as much as you can, girly. You’ve got a long day ahead of you,” Mary said with a warm smile, then surprised Lucy by pulling out the chair beside her and sitting down.
She didn’t rush, just poured herself a cup of tea and took a sip before speaking again.
“I know this is all a lot,” she said gently, her eyes fixed on the steam rising from her mug. “But I want you to understand something before the day starts.”
Lucy glanced at her, unsure what to say.
“You’ll be spending time with each of them,” Mary continued. “Sam, Nick, Corey… even Barnaby, in his own way. They’re not just here to keep you company — they’re here to teach you.”
“Teach me what?” Lucy asked quietly.
Mary gave a small nod, pleased by the question. “Sam will show you how to handle a blade. She’s calm and focused. Nick willteach you how to blend in — how to disappear when you need to. Corey will toughen you up. Not just your body, but your mind. And Barnaby… well, he’s sharp as a tack. That boy sees everything.”
Lucy looked down at her plate, appetite momentarily forgotten.
Mary’s voice softened. “I know you’ve been through something no child should ever face. But the world doesn’t care about fair. It’ll come for you again — and next time, you need to be ready.”
Lucy met her eyes then, and Mary held her gaze with quiet strength.
“You’re not here to forget what happened. You’re here to make sure it never happens again.”
She stood, giving Lucy’s shoulder a light squeeze.
“Now eat. Sam’s waiting. And trust me — you don’t want to keep her waiting.”
The days always began with Sam. She was sharp, direct, and confident — a knife specialist who had joined the Oxleys early on, alongside Carter. That morning, she handed Lucy a whetstone and pointed to a drawer full of blades.
“Sharpen every single one before lunch.”
It felt pointless at first — repetitive, mechanical, and dull. But Lucy soon realised that nothing in this house was without purpose. Every task had a lesson buried in it. She just needed to learn how to see it.
