Page 29 of Of Heather and Thistle
“Dad?”
He lifted his head too slowly. His eyes were glassy, unfocused. She had opened her mouth to speak more, but before she could say anything, he let out a sharp humorless laugh.
“Shit, Heather, you still standing there?”
She froze.
“What do you want from me, huh?” he muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. “You wanna hear some bullshit about how everything’s gonna be fine? ‘Cause it’s not.It’s never gonna be fine.”
She had flinched, gripping the edge of the doorframe, willing herself not to cry.
“Go to bed, kid.”
And she had.
She had stopped trying that night—stopped hoping he’d comfort her, stopped waiting for him to care. Heather exhaled hard now, wiping her face before any tears could fall. Her father never got to choose a better life because his addiction controlled him, but Heather was done carrying the burdens of her father’s alcoholism—done with that house, done with his shadow, done carrying the weight of what he left behind.
It was done.
The decision was made.
And just like that, the email was gone.
Byrdie jumped onto the table, her small paw landing on Heather’s arm. Heather scratched behind Byrdie’s ears and let out a shaky breath: “I’m doing the right thing, right?” she asked quietly. Byrdie just purred in response and Heather took that as a yes.
* * *
Heather was pacing the small living room with her phone clutched tightly in one hand and a notepad in the other. She was researching everything she’d need before flying to Scotland—passport, plane tickets, packing essentials—but every time she tried to focus, the reality of what she was doing hit her hard. Was she really doing this? Was she really going to uproot her entire life and leave everything behind?She kept losing her train of thought, her list half-written, her mind spinning between logistics and the terrifying enormity of it all.
“Okay…” she muttered, tapping the pen against her lips. “…Step one: book a flight. Step two: tell Mark I’ll be gone for a while. Step three…” She faltered, glancing at the blank space beneath her neatly numbered points. “…figure out everything else.”
Byrdie meowed from the couch as if in encouragement. Heather smiled despite herself, tossing the pen onto the notepad. “You make it sound so easy,” she said, scooping the cat into her arms.
Byrdie purred loudly and put her paws on Heather’s shoulder so she could nuzzle her on her cheek. And for a moment, the weight in Heather’s chest felt lighter.
A thin beam of sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the ornate cursive writing on the Glenoran House Estate papers that were spread across her small kitchen table as she sat down and placed Byrdie in her lap. She hadn’t yet called the law office listed in the packet, despite the instructions to do so. Robert Ellis had only handed it off as a favor—he wasn’t the one who could give her the answers she needed.
But now, she knew she couldn’t put it off. Taking a deep breath, she dialed the number. The line rang twice before buzzing momentarily then clicked, and a cheerful voice answered on the other end.
“Duncan & Reid Solicitors, this is Isla speaking. How may I help ye today?” The familiar lilting Scottish accent threw Heather off for a second.
She cleared her throat quickly.
“Hi, um, this is Heather Campbell. I’m calling about the Glenoran Estate.” There was a brief pause, followed by the sound of shuffling papers.
“Aye! Miss Campbell, we’ve been expectin’ yer call. Hold on just a wee moment while I pull up yer file.” Heather waited, the faint sound of Isla humming a tune in the background giving her a strange sense of comfort.
“Right,” Isla said, returning to the line. “Here we are! Glenoran House. …your late mother’s estate, aye? Ye know… Yer mother used to say Glenoran had secrets only the right eyes could see.”
“Oh, um… okay,” Heather confirmed, her voice faltering slightly. “I… I just got to look at the paperwork, and I’m trying to figure out what comes next. The letter said to call your office for guidance.”
“Of course,” Isla replied with compassion, her tone warm and reassuring. “It can all seem a bit overwhelmin’ at first, I’m sure. But dinnae worry; we’ll guide ye through it step by step.”
Heather let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Thank you. …So, what do I need to do?”
“Well…” Isla began, her voice carrying a blend of professionalism and friendliness, “…the first step will be for one of our solicitors to meet with ye in person. There’s a good bit to go over—the deed, the land survey, and the property’s current standing with the local council. Ye’ll also want to review the estate’s financials, especially if ye’re considerin’ sellin’.”
Heather’s chest tightened. “Do I have to decide right away? About selling, I mean?”
