Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
“Wait, back up,” I demanded. “You’re telling me that my dad had a huge insurance policy?”
“I think it was close to a million dollars,” she replied with a nod.
I wanted to throw something. Hit something. Scream at the top of my lungs. It didn’t make any sense. I’d been scrimping and saving just to buy the kids school supplies, and the entire time we’d had a million fucking dollars? How was that possible?
“If she was smart, she would’ve paid off the house first—”
I lifted my hand to stop her from speaking, still reeling. I just needed a minute to wrap my head around it.
“Your dad was a planner,” Aunt Ashley said softly. “He wouldn’t have wanted you guys to struggle if something happened to him.”
“Then he shouldn’t have had kids with such a selfish bitch,” I spat without thinking. “Oh, my god.”
“There has to be some left,” Aunt Ashley said, ignoring my outburst. “We need to figure that out, too. It would come to you kids with your mom gone.”
“I don’t know, she was never short on cash for booze and God knows what else,” I argued. “She probably blew through it.”
“We’ll check.”
I nodded, but I had a feeling that money was gone. Why else would she have been stealing cash out of my wallet?
“We’ll go from there,” Aunt Ashley said, tapping her pen against the paper again. “If your parents had a will then they would’ve made me your godparent. That was always the plan when you were little, if anything happened to them. Your dad had a sister back in Ireland—Saoirse was named after her—but from what I understand, her husband was a creep, so they hadn’t spoken in years.”
“If you’re named godparent in their will, then that’s it, right?” I said, my stomach clenching. “The state wouldn’t have anything to say.”
“I think so,” she said. “The way you guys took off might’ve caused some shit—”
“We came out here for Cian’s birthday,” I cut in. “It was planned. Mom called and talked to you the day she died to confirm. When you call to let her know we’re here, and she doesn’t answer, you’ll get worried. Start calling hospitals.”
She stared at me in shock.
“We Kelly kids can think on our feet,” I said defensively.
“Yeah, I’m seeing that.”
“To be clear,” I said, not unkindly. The way she had automatically begun making lists and figuring out what we needed to do next was a huge relief, but it also made me very, very nervous. “The kids stay with me. It’s not up for discussion. Where I go, they go.”
“I never thought differently.”
“What we really need is for you to do is help make that happen.”
“Aoife,” she said softly, getting to her feet. She rounded the island and pulled me into a hug.
She was built like Mom. Like me. We were all the same height and build, but if I unfocused my eyes, Aunt Ashley looked exactly like my mother.
She felt like her, too.
I swallowed against the lump in my throat.
“Since the moment you were born, I would’ve done anything for you,” she said, rubbing my back. “Same with your brothers and sisters. I know I haven’t been around in a while, but that’s never changed, okay?”
I nodded.
“You guys can stay here as long as you need,” she said, giving me a squeeze before pulling back to look into my eyes. “If you want to eventually get a place, I’ll help make that happen. But I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay,” I rasped, nodding.
“Now,” she said, letting me go. “Want a fancy coffee? Saoirse said you like mochas but you barely ever get them. That still your go-to? I’ve got an espresso machine.”
“Yeah,” I croaked, sitting down on the stool she’d left. “I like mochas.”
“Safe to come out?” Cian asked, poking his head around the corner.
“Dad had a million dollar insurance policy,” I blurted.
“The fuck?” he yelped.
“We can get into all that later,” Aunt Ashley said as the rest of the kids filtered out of the bedroom down the hall. “Now tell me about that boyfriend of yours.” She looked at me over her shoulder. “The kids had a lot to say about him. Richie, right?”
Cian scoffed. “She bailed on his ass.”
“Shut up, Cian.”
“He wanted to come with us,” Cian continued, ignoring me. “He went to go pack a bag, and we left before he got back.”
“Shut up, Cian,” I repeated. The reminder made my guts twist with remorse. I’d done the right thing. I knew I’d done the right thing. That didn’t mean that I felt good about it. I missed Richie like a lost limb. With my mom, it still felt a little unreal. I’d seen the wreck, I knew logically that she was gone, but we were so often without her that it didn’t feel any different yet. I normally saw or spoke to Richie multiple times a day. I felt his loss with every breath.