The Inheritance (56)

The story so far.

Rosalie sits down. “I think Aunt Nan wanted to teach me how to do this. I remember arguments with my parents, when I was a kid. Then we stopped coming here. I hadn’t heard from her since.”

“Did you call her?” Shayna asks. “You know, once you were grown up and not a little kid anymore?”

Rosalie sips her tea. “It honestly didn’t occur to me. And no, I never felt like I was missing out, or that there was some other vocation I ought to be following. I’m a graphic designer. I work for an advertising agency.”

“No reason you can’t still be,” Rosalie says. “I mean, don’t you people do all that work remotely these days?”

The Inheritance (55)

The story so far.

“Okay,” Rosalie says. “Assuming I buy all that, I guess that really just leaves me with one more question.”

“What’s that?” Shayna asks.

“Why me?”

Shayna looks at her for a minute, and Rosalie can see her trying to formulate a reassuring answer. The kettle boils and Rosalie pours water over teabags in two cups and puts them on the table and Shayna still hasn’t said anything.

Finally she says: “I’ve been asking myself that ever since before you showed up.”

The Inheritance (54)

The story so far.

Rosalie turns around once the kettle is going. “I guess I don’t really understand. What exactly did my aunt do? And why is it so important that I be the one to take it on?”

Instead of answering immediately, Shayna darts her gaze to the door that leads down to the basement. Rosalie didn’t latch it all the way. “You been downstairs?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you found what Nan was keeping down there.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s part of your answer, right there.”

“I don’t understand.”

Shayna rolls her eyes. “Look. Your aunt was a kind of a–fixer for this neighborhood. Not that kind. I mean that she saw to things. Kept things from getting out of hand. When she died, it all started breaking down.”

The Inheritance (53)

The story so far.

Rosalie answers the door with the wand still in her hand. Shayna’s gaze zeroes in on it immediately. “So you found it.”

Rosalie nods. “I’ve just got no idea what I’m supposed to do with it.”

“I know,” Shayna says. “Have you got the map?”

“Yes.”

“That’s something. Can I come in?”

Rosalie leads Shayna into the kitchen, where the map is on the table along with the flashlight and the statue. She puts the wand down with an unexpected reluctance, and starts water for tea.

“All right,” Shayna says behind her. “The map’s the important thing here.”

The Inheritance (52)

The story so far.

There doesn’t seem to be a lot else to say after that, so Rosalie leaves the money for her lunch on the counter and leaves. No one else comes in and Shayna doesn’t re-emerge from the kitchen.

Back at Aunt Nan’s house, what she mostly feels is stuck. The map, the statue, the flashlight, and what can only be the wand.

A magic wand. Really.

And why should she be better at this than Shayna, who at least appears to have some idea of what she’s doing?

As though thinking of the woman has summoned her, there’s a knock on the door.

The Inheritance (51)

The story so far.

Rosalie sighs again. Making Shayna’s acquaintance seems to involve a lot of that. “All right. Will you help me?”

Shayna gives her a long look. She gets up, goes behind the counter, picks up her spatula, and looks at Rosalie again.

“All right,” she says, finally. “Nan left all this to you, maybe she saw something in you. Maybe you can be better at this than I am. Cause I’ve gotta tell you, fighting this all by myself since your aunt died, it ain’t easy.”

“I don’t imagine that it is.”

Shayna gives her this look, like she’s just said something incredibly dumb. “They shot a kid in front of my store. What do you think?”

Then she disappears into the kitchen.

The Inheritance (50)

The story so far.

The sandwich is delicious. But Rosalie finds what Shayna’s telling her far less palatable. “You’re saying I can’t leave until I solve this.”

Shayna shrugs. “Didn’t say that. You might find the will.” She sounds dubious, though whether she thinks a lot of effort is required, or that Rosalie is weak-willed, is less clear. “Or someone else might figure it out. Might even be Officer Anderson.”

Rosalie sighs. “All right. But I don’t know how to…do any of this.”

Shayna gives her a long, unblinking look. “Try asking.”

The Inheritance (49)

The story so far.

“So what else could it be?” Rosalie asks.

Shayna shrugs. “Could be more than the house. Your aunt really didn’t tell you any of this?”

“My parents wouldn’t let her.”

Shayna’s eyebrows drift upward. “Ohhhhhh. But she left you all this anyway.”

“She left me the house. Beyond that…” Rosalie shrugs.

“Okay. But you’ve gotta understand something. Whatever’s keeping you here, it’s not just the house. Your Aunt Nan looked after this whole neighborhood. In her way.”

“That’s what the officer told me.”

Shayna’s eyes narrow. “Which officer?”

“The one investigating the shooting? You know, the one that happened right out there?” Rosalie’s getting impatient.

Shayna rolls her eyes. “Figures.”

The Inheritance (48)

The story so far.

Rosalie watches the television bolted to the ceiling in the corner while Shayna makes her sandwich. It’s a news report and eventually it gets around to the shooting of a young man in the parking lot just outside of where Rosalie now sits. No leads.

After some minutes, Shayna brings her the sandwich and a side of fries and sits down across from her.

“So,” Shayna says, just as Rosalie bites into spicy pulled pork. “You think the house is keeping you from leaving.”

Rosalie thinks that one over as she chews and swallows. “I’m not sure that it’s the house. Butsomething is.”

Shayna nods. “That’s good. That’s smart. You can’t be sure it’s the house. Not yet.”

The Inheritance (47)

The story so far.

The woman looks at her for a minute. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, every time I think about leaving, something happens to delay it. That cop investigating the shooting comes by, or…or something. I don’t know. I think it’s the house. I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“Because you know I know what you’re talking about,” the woman says. She sticks out her hand. “Name’s Shayna.”

She takes the proffered hand, shakes. “Rosalie.”

Shayna nods. “Lemme get you your sandwich. And then, we should talk.”