Page 5 of Liars

Kenny stood after a moment of chewing on her bottom lip, her brows bunched as if she was deciding if she should insist that she stay. Her gaze shifted to me, and I gave her a weak smile.

Carson continued to eye the two adults with mistrust.

“We should go. Give you some privacy,” Kenny said as she reached across my bed and tugged on Carson’s shirt. “Let’s go,” she muttered under her breath.

Carson continued to stare at Decker and Kathrine but eventually climbed off the edge of my bed. His feet dragged as he followed Kenny. “We’ll check on you later,” he said.

“You’ll stay?” I asked hopefully, far from ready to be alone. The thought gave me chills, and the IV pumping fluids into my veins already had me freezing.

“As long as they let us,” Carson assured before disappearing out the door.

I nearly called after them, asking them to stay. Why hadn’t I insisted? I didn’t want to hear what either Decker or Kathrine had to say.

It was too late now.

“I have good news. You’re going to be released tomorrow,” the lawyer informed.

“And the bad news,” I prompted, my fingers fumbling with the sterile white sheet draped over me.

“I wouldn’t say it’s bad per se, but it will impact your life. It’s up to you how,” he said.

I braced myself.

Mr. King stepped forward, his polished shoes clicking against the tile floor. “Miss Kaylor, first, let me say how deeply sorry I am for your loss. I worked with your father for many years, and he spoke of you often. He was very proud of you.”

The words felt distant, like they belonged to someone else. I stared at him, unmoved. “Why are you here?”

Mrs. Morgan moved the chair from the corner of the room, closer to the bed, and sat down, her posture open and nonthreatening. “Your father left a will. Mr. King is here to explain it to you and to address your next steps.”

My stomach twisted. I hadn’t wanted to consider what came next, but now I was about to be smacked in the face with it, whether I was ready or not. All I could think about was that my parents were gone.

I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, nodding for them to continue.

Mr. King opened his briefcase with a soft click and pulled out a thick document. “Your father was a meticulous man, and he made sure his wishes were clearly outlined. According to his will, there are a few key points we need to discuss.”

He glanced at Mrs. Morgan before continuing. “First, as you’re still a minor, your father designated a legal guardian to care for you until you turn eighteen.”

I frowned, my heart sinking. “Guardian? You mean a relative like my Aunt Char or my Uncle Ronan?” They were both married, but only my Aunt Char lived close by, although she and my Uncle Sutton were hardly home. They traveled extensively for business, and I guessed my parents wouldn’t have chosen them to care for me despite my being nearly an adult.

My mom had another sister besides Aunt Char, but they weren’t speaking.

Mr. King hesitated. “While your aunt is undoubtedly a part of your life, your father named someone else—your godfather.”

I blinked, confused. “My what? I don’t have a godfather.”

“You do, indeed,” Mr. King said gently. “His name is Donovan Corvo. Your father appointed him as your guardian in the event of his and your mother’s passing.”

“Donovan Corvo?” I repeated, the name foreign on my tongue.Who the fuck is that?“I’ve never even heard of him. Why would my parents pick someone I don’t know? It doesn’t make sense.” My parents weren’t people who would ship me off to just anyone. They were overprotective. I rarely ever had a sitter as a child. They were always present at every single event in my life, never missing one volleyball game. I was an only child and spoiled at that. My head couldn’t fathom my parents passing something so important as raising their little girl to anyone, especially someone I’d never seen.

Mr. King sighed, adjusting his glasses. “Your father and Mr. Corvo were very close in their younger years. For reasons I’m not privy to, your father trusted him implicitly. He made this arrangement years ago and never amended it.”

Mrs. Morgan interjected, her tone reassuring. “I’ve already spoken with Mr. Corvo. He’s agreed to take guardianship, and we’ll ensure the transition is as smooth as possible. You’ll stay with him until you turn eighteen, which is only…” She glanced at the folder in her hands. “Nearly six months away,” she finished, doing the math on how far my birthday was.

June twenty-ninth.

My chest tightened. The idea of living with a stranger—a man I’d never even heard of—made my stomach churn. “No. I don’t want to go. I don’t know him. Don’t I get a say in what happens to me? This should be my decision.”

“I understand this is overwhelming,” Mrs. Morgan said, attempting to pacify me, but her placid tone only pissed me off. “But this is what your father wanted. We’ll work together to make sure you’re safe and comfortable.”

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