Sisters - By Patricia MacDonald Page 0,3

you back to stay?’ he asked.

Alex shrugged. ‘I’m going to look for a job in Boston. I just got my masters in arts administration.’

‘You’re looking for a museum job?’

‘Museums, galleries . . .’

‘Like your dad, eh? You know, your dad helped me out a lot when I was working on my dissertation,’ Seth said. ‘He was a walking encyclopedia when it came to the American Revolution. And a great guy as well.’

Alex felt the tears welling up and nodded. ‘Yes, well, thanks. It was nice to see you again.’ She smiled blindly and turned away from him, pretending to look at the food table. When he began to talk to someone else, she set her punch glass down on the table and headed for the front door. On her way out, she thanked Laney, dismissing her protests that she should stay. She hurried back across the street and into the safety of the house. It’s the holiday, she told herself, as she turned out the front porch lights. It makes everything harder.

She had been home for one week when the phone rang and the caller, a woman, asked to speak to Alex Woods. ‘This is she,’ said Alex.

‘I’m calling from John Killebrew’s office. Mr Killebrew was your parents’ attorney.’

‘Yes, I know,’ said Alex. ‘I met with him when I was home for their funeral.’

‘Mr Killebrew would like you to come into the office. He has something to discuss with you.’

Alex felt vaguely guilty and wondered if there were legal matters which she had left unattended. It had been so difficult these last two semesters at school, summer and fall to try and focus on her work and make decisions about her parents’ estate as well. She had not inherited a lot besides the house, but there were several bank accounts and insurance, as well as a few outstanding debts. As her parents’ executor, Uncle Brian had handled most of it. But he had been scrupulous about asking her opinion in every matter. ‘All right,’ she said.

‘Shall we say tomorrow at ten?’ the secretary asked brightly.

Alex looked around at the piles of belongings still unsorted, the half-empty boxes on the dining room table. ‘OK. Ten o’clock,’ she said.

John Killebrew’s office was in a Victorian house in the center of Chichester, the town where Alex grew up. She had often passed that house lugging her books on her way to the high school, never dreaming that in less than ten years she would be entering that office, orphaned, and trying to cope with the myriad financial and legal matters that attended the sudden loss of both her parents.

Thanks to Uncle Brian, much of it had been handled over the last six months. She had come to this office twice to sign a lot of legal documents when she was back here for the funeral, and Uncle Brian had taken care of the rest. There were probably only some details to discuss. She walked up to the bespectacled, middle-aged receptionist in the hushed office, which resembled an English gentlemen’s club. ‘I’m Alex Woods,’ she said.

The receptionist smiled at her kindly. ‘I know who you are,’ she said. ‘He told me to send you in when you arrived. Go right ahead. It’s the door at the end of the hall.’

‘I know where it is,’ said Alex. ‘Thanks.’

‘I’ll let him know you’re here.’

The gray-haired attorney arose from his chair and came around to shake Alex’s hand. ‘Have a seat,’ he said, indicating a maroon leather chair in front of his desk. Alex sat down.

‘How’s it going?’

Alex shrugged. ‘I’m trying to clean out the house. It’s a difficult process.’

‘I’m sure it is,’ said the attorney.

‘I didn’t know whether you might want my uncle to be here,’ said Alex. ‘With him being the executor of my parents’ estate.’

‘No, no,’ said Killebrew, shaking his head somberly. ‘There’s no need for that. This isn’t actually . . . about the estate.’

Alex frowned at him. ‘It isn’t?’

‘No, Alex.’ He folded his arms over his chest and frowned. ‘I have something to give you.’ He reached across his desk, picked up an envelope and handed it to her.

Alex immediately recognized the neat, bookkeeper’s handwriting. ‘From . . . my mother,’ she said.

John Killebrew nodded.

Alex was flustered. ‘Should I read it now?’

‘I think it might be a good idea,’ he said. ‘You may have some questions.’

Alex tore open the envelope with trembling hands and pulled out the sheet of paper. She began to read.

My darling girl,

If you are reading this, that means