Page 12 of Give Me Strength

So why is Gilbert here?

I steal a glance in his direction, and he appears to be just as puzzled as I am. Granted, Mr. Greenfield handled the lawsuit against the man who caused the accident, and he represented all of us, dead and alive. But that was then, and this is now. As far as I am concerned, that lawsuit and Dad’s will are mutually exclusive.

“This next part is a bit unusual,” Mr. Greenfield says, drawing my attention back to the present. “I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here, Gilbert.”

“I’m wondering the same thing, too,” I blurt out.

“Well, it has to do with Hannah Crane’s original last will and testament,” he adds.

My heart skips a bit. “What about it?”

“Your mother never expected your father to outlive her, so she named the McKenzies as your legal guardians in the event of her death.”

Aunt Bonnie gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, but I’m not feeling it. Instead, I feel like the ground has been yanked out from under me.

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “It can’t be. There has to be some mistake.”

He looks at me with a mix of sympathy and resolve. “Your mother was very clear in her wishes, and since your father never got around to signing the paperwork amending them, your mother’s will on legal guardianship takes precedent as it was prepared ten years ago. As it stands, Miss Walsh will manage the estate, and Mr. McKenzie will act as your legal guardian.”

“For a week,” I whisper, blood rushing to my ears.

He shakes his head. “I’m afraid not.”

This cannot be happening.

I stand up, my mind a whirlwind of emotions — mostly confusion, anger and grief too — so I aim all of it in the direction of the deliverer of this news.

“I turn eighteen in a week, so what difference does it make who my legal guardian is?—”

“Ashlynn,” Mr. Greenfield interrupts gently. “It’s not that simple, and you know it. I know this is difficult to understand, but your mother trusted both of them with this responsibility. She believed it was in your best interest, and Miss Walsh agreed.”

A surge of anger and betrayal wells up inside me as I turn to face her. “You and I both know that Mom probably intended to name just Rachel, but they died together. And we all know that Dad hated him, so it makes zero sense that he never amended Mom’s will,” my eyes narrow precariously, “unless you had something to do with it. Is that why aren’t you fighting it? Am I that much of a burden that you’re ready to pawn me off to the next available person? Why do I have to be stuck with him?”

“Lynn…” she reaches for my hand, but I swat her off.

Gilbert remains frozen in his seat. His stormy blue-gray eyes are trained on me, filled with a depth that seems to pierce through everything and everyone. They hold a determination that is both intimidating and mesmerizing. But it’s the grief-stricken look on his face — the one he’s trying so hard to mask — that gets me.

Still, my heart skips a beat, and I hate myself for it.

Without another word, I turn and flee from the room, my heart pounding in my chest. I need to get away from all of them, to clear my head. Tears blur my vision as I burst out of the building, the cold air biting at my skin as I run towards the town car.

Russ is standing by the rear door, holding it open for me. I practically throw myself onto the back seat with my legs hanging out of the car. Gently, he props my body up into a seating position, pulls off my flats, and tucks my feet into a bucket of ice-cold water that definitely wasn’t there when we drove here.

“Janice called,” is all he says.

Did I mention that Russ has medical training, too?

Cuts, aches, bruises, scrapes — he’s seen them all and tends to them when I am too stubborn to do so myself. I nod in appreciation, the knot in my throat makes it difficult to speak. I love ballet too much to fight him on the first aid that comes with it.

I am not sure who or what I am more angry at. Myself, for blurting out the first thing that came to mind. Aunt Bonnie, for not speaking up sooner. Dad, for up and dying on me. Or Gilbert…

How am I supposed to face him now, after what I said? How am I supposed to endure this new reality?

Is this what Aunt Bonnie means when she says I don’t throw tantrums like other normal teenagers?

If that’s the case, this sucks.

5

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