Page 6 of Who Owns You?

I sling my tote bag off my shoulder and pull out my birth certificate, social security card, and college transcripts. The three documents that apparently make up who I am.

“Fine arts major?” Michael questions as he takes them from me and makes a neat little pile before pressing a button on his phone. “Paisley, I need copies made of Ms. Ryan’s documents.”

“Right away, sir.”

The woman from the reception desk bustles in and quickly takes my papers from Michael’s desk before disappearing out the door again.

I should be more worried, but I can’t sense the spark of doubt that I normally get when someone is trying to fuck me over.

“Lottie’s a very talented artist. Her work is incredible!” Kennedy gushes, leaning forward and pulling her phone from her way too-tiny clutch. “Look, she made me this for my birthday last year.” She turns her phone, and I want to melt into the floor.

It’s a hyperrealistic painting of a naked Viking man on a horse, riding into battle.

Michael arches a brow, the corners of his lips tipping up. I swear his eyes flick to Kennedy’s face as she ogles the picture with a satisfied grin, but it’s over so quickly I can’t be sure.

In what seems like way too little time, Paisley comes back with two manila folders. She places them on Michael’s desk and smiles at Kennedy and me before she leaves again.

“I see the talent,” he says and then clears his throat. “Bringing things back to the matter at hand, Ms. McKenna’s will contains a conditional bequest—that her beneficiary completetheir college education before the assets can be transferred. These documents will speed up the process immensely.” Quickly checking both folders, he puts the copies into his desk drawer and hands me back my originals.

“There are more assets than just the cash and investments,” he says, flipping through some papers before he pulls out another folder that gives me a brief flashback to my former boss’s office. “There are a few plots of farmland and underdeveloped property that will be transferred to you automatically, but the most interesting piece of property in the late Ms. McKenna’s portfolio is this.” He slides an older piece of paper across the desk.

Kennedy and I lean over in sync to take in the fanciful script on the document. Parts of it are hard to read, but most bits toward the end are incredibly clear.

“I own a castle in Ireland?” I ask breathlessly.

“Indeed, you do, in County Kerry, in the town of Colbéliard.”

“Where the heck is that?” Kennedy asks, spine snapping straight. “And does that make her a princess?”

Michael suddenly laughs, the reaction seemingly startling even him. He clears his throat, loosening his tie. “No, that doesn’t make your sister a princess. It’s an old castle, privately owned and in a livable state. Your aunt had one further condition. In order to complete the transfer of deeds, you’ll be required to spend some time there.” He pauses and looks at another document sitting on his desk. “This is a direct quote—‘Experience the homeland of your ancestors to become your best self.’”

Kennedy smacks her hands over her mouth to keep her giggles in, and I just stare at Michael.

“I have to move to Ireland?”

Chapter 3

CHARLOTTE

Between gettingon the plane in New York and getting off in Galway, it’s like being transported to a different world. Sure, being dehydrated and mussed from oversleeping to get through the flight might add to the sense of a distorted reality, but something in the air buzzes along my skin.

I sigh as I drop into a chair beside the gate, watching as people mill about with direction I just don’t have. Colbéliard, my new castle, and the mysterious quest of finding myself await.

As my phone connects to the slow-as-molasses airport Wi-Fi, notification after notification comes through.

“What the—” I grumble as I unlock my phone, trying to take in the biblical-level flood of messages.

I go for the texts over the news and email notifications, knowing my family is going to want proof of life.

Momma Bear: Fly safe, sweetie

Momma Bear: There’s been a big announcement on the news. I don’t want you to panic. We’re just a call away.

Pops: You’ll be alright. Call me if you have questions.

Kenny Girl: HAVE YOU SEEN THE NEWS?!?!?

Kenny Girl: OMG, Of course you haven’t. You’re probably snoring on a plane and drooling on the shoulder of a stranger.

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