Wren
Ch. 34
“Alright, now all that’s left is the matter of the will.” Catherine Reyes handed Brandon a black handkerchief. He took it, but put it down on her desk.
“He made a will?”
“Yeah, barely three days ago now. I didn’t pry, from our previous encounter it had seemed like he was in a dangerous situation, and I had figured he had just wanted to be prepared. I’m sorry I didn’t try to stop him.”
“It’s not your fault. You barely knew him. I could tell something was wrong, I should have pushed harder to stop him.”
“It’s easy to blame yourself, but he had his heart set on this, there wasn’t anything you could have done to stop him.”
“I guess you’re right. What did he put in the will?”
“He left tens of thousands of bateaux to a woman, Mags Sutton, as a fund for the reconstruction of her establishment. The rest is going to a fund for you to live off of, and a donation to the university, marked for their library. He specified that the exact split of this portion should be decided by you; he said that you know better than he did how much money you need compared to how much the university could use.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you helping me through this. Do I have to give you numbers now?”
“No. As far as the law is concerned, everything that doesn’t go to Mags is yours. Just let me know when you make your decision.”
“Thank you.” Brandon stood up and left the room.
He started on the walk back to the university. He walked slowly, thinking about the events of the past month. When Rich had come to him for help, he wasn’t Brandon’s closest friend, though Brandon had a suspicion that he was Rich’s. And possibly his only friend. They were friends, of course. And Brandon was always willing to help a friend. He wasn’t sure why, but they had grown closer. His first thought was that it had happened when he was caring for Rich after the Ox burned down. But that wasn’t it. Before all this had started, he wasn’t close enough with Rich to be willing to do that. Maybe there was something to the idea that doing favors for people makes you like them more.
When he finally arrived at the university, he sat down at his desk and resumed his work. After a few minutes, a courier came to his desk.
“Are you Brandon Reeve?”
“I am, but artifacts are always addressed to the university.”
“It says it’s from a Rich Newport. He dropped it off several days ago, same day the island burned down, and asked for it to be delivered today. And it’s just a letter.” He handed the letter to Brandon.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” The courier left.
Brandon inspected the letter. It wasn’t sealed, it was just light purple paper, folded in half. He agonized for a while if he even wanted to open it. He was afraid it would just re-open very recent wounds. He shoved it into his desk and went about his business for the rest of the day.
Then that night, after the library had closed. He re-opened his desk drawer, and took out the letter. After staring at it for several minutes, he decided to open it. The message inside was written in Rich’s handwriting. And it was only two words.
“Thank you.”