The Hawthorne Legacy (The Inheritance Games #2)(40)

“We don’t know what we’re looking for.” Xander kept his voice low enough that the adults at the front of the plane couldn’t hear us. “But we know the old man left it for Skye. It will be in or very near to the cabin, and it will probably have Skye’s name on it.”

“Do we have anything else to go on?” Rebecca asked. “Any particular wording in the prior clue?”

“Very good, young Padawan.” Xander bowed toward her.

“No Star Wars references,” Thea shot back. “Listening to you talk geeky gives me a migraine.”

“You knew I was quoting from Star Wars.” Xander gave her a triumphant look. “I win!”

“Sorry,” Rebecca told Max and me. “They’re just like this.”

I got the distinct sense that I was getting a view into what all three of them had been like before. Rebecca’s phone rang then, and she looked down. Deep-red hair covered her alabaster face. I could almost see her shrinking into herself.

“Everything okay?” I asked. I wondered if her mother was the one calling.

“It’s fine,” Rebecca said from behind a wall of hair.

She wasn’t fine. That wasn’t a secret. I’d known it since that night in the tunnels, when she’d confessed. I’d just been trying very hard not to care.

A determined expression on her face, Thea made a grab for the ringing phone. “Rebecca’s phone,” she answered, pressing it to her ear. “Thea speaking.”

Rebecca’s head whipped up. “Thea!”

“Everything’s fine, Mr. Laughlin.” Thea held out a hand to ward off Rebecca’s attempts to grab the phone from her. “Bex just nodded off. You know how she gets on planes.” Thea twisted to block Rebecca again. “Sure, I’ll tell her. Take care. Bye.”

Thea hung up the phone and angled her face toward Rebecca. “Your grandfather says to have a good trip. He’ll take care of your mom. Now…” Thea tossed the phone down on the table and turned back to the rest of us. “I believe Rebecca asked about the wording of the clue.”

Max poked me in the side. “When you fly private, you can talk on the phone!”

I didn’t respond, because I’d just realized how quiet Xander was being. He hadn’t answered Rebecca’s original question, so I did. “A compass. The clue that pointed us toward True North was in the part of Tobias Hawthorne’s will where he left Skye his compass.”

“Oh,” Thea said innocently. “Like the antique compass Xander’s hiding in his pocket?”

Xander scowled at her. Max reached for the pastry platter and beaned Xander with a croissant. “Holding out on us?” she demanded.

“I see our budding friendship has reached its croissant phase,” Xander told her. “I am pleased.”

“You’re also hiding things,” I accused. “You have the compass the old man left Skye?”

Xander shrugged. “A Hawthorne always comes prepared.” And this was his game.

“Can I see it?” I asked. Xander reluctantly handed me the compass. I opened it and stared at the face. The design was simple; it didn’t look expensive.

A phone buzzed—not Rebecca’s this time. Mine. Looking down, I realized that Jameson had finally texted back.

His text was exactly three words long: Meet you there.





CHAPTER 39


I stared out the window as the jet began its descent. From a distance, all I could see was mountains and clouds and snow, but soon I could make out the tree line. A month ago, I’d never even been on a plane. Now I was flying private. No matter how focused I tried to stay on the task at hand, I couldn’t help wanting to lose myself in the vastness of the sight out that window.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this life was never meant for me.





We landed at a private airstrip. It took half an hour—and three enormous SUVs—to make the drive to True North, which was nestled higher up on the mountain, far away from the resort town below.

“The house has ski-in/ski-out access,” Alisa informed Max and me on the drive. “It’s private, but there’s a trail that will take you to the lodge below.”

As True North came into view, it hit me that the photos hadn’t done it justice. The A-line roof was white with snow. The house was massive but somehow still looked like an extension of the mountain.

“I called ahead to have the caretaker open up the house,” Alisa said as she, Oren, Max, and I stepped out onto the snow. “We should be stocked with food. I took the liberty of having appropriate attire delivered for you girls.”

“Fox me,” Max whispered, awed, as she took in the sight in front of us.

“It’s beautiful,” I told Alisa.

A soft smile crossed my lawyer’s lips, and her eyes crinkled at the edges. “This property was one of Mr. Hawthorne’s favorites,” Alisa told me. “He always seemed different up here.”

A second, identical SUV parked next to ours, and Libby stepped out, followed by Nash and more of Oren’s men. A half dozen strands of Libby’s hair had fought their way free of her French braid and blew wildly in the mountain wind.

“I understand that Grayson and Jameson will be joining us,” Alisa said, deliberately turning away from Nash and my sister. “Whatever you do,” she cautioned, “do not let any of the Hawthornes challenge you to a Drop.”