Orer awoke to bright sunlight in his eyes. Groaning, he shielded himself with an arm and rolled over. Getting up with the sun was usually his ideal, but not today. As he slowly came to, he realized he hadn’t even climbed under the covers the night before. The comforter, being some sort of thick material, began to rub him the wrong way. Well, he was awake already, wasn’t he? A bit disgruntled, he sat up to get his bearings.

For a bedroom, the place was large. “Quarters” seemed like a more fitting name. On one end, there was an attached bathroom, and on the other, a door to what was likely a walk-in closet. He got up and went to the window, looking out. Man, if the sun was this bad from the North Wing, he couldn’t imagine how blinding Kena’s room must be.

Through the haze of light he could make out the line of trees about an acre out from the house. He remembered always thinking of those woods as a magical forest when he was younger. Today, they just seemed eerie.

But no time to dwell on that. Taking a shower and getting changed was sounding really nice right now, and Orer decided to do exactly those two things.

When he finally made it downstairs, Gram was sitting by herself at the head of a long dining room table, sipping some coffee.

“Why no downsizing?” he asked. It had to be lonely, sitting at a table like this every morning, every afternoon, every evening, all by herself.

“Good morning to you, too, Orer dear,” she replied, glancing up at him.

“Morning,” he quickly amended. He glanced across the room again. The empty chairs were beginning to spook him out with their silence, and that was with another person in the room. He couldn’t fathom how she did it on the daily.

“I am but one elderly woman, Orer,” she continued. He snapped out of it and looked back at her. “And I am in need of my grandson’s assistance.”

“Oh, of course,” he said. “Anything, Gram.”

She motioned to the seat on her right, and he took it.

“I understand you know something about finance,” she said, taking on a dramatic air as she placed her cup back down on its saucer. What with the way she cadenced her voice and waved her arms, Orer was a bit surprised she didn’t have a background in theater. The woman could work a part. He assumed that in this current moment, he was being worked on to feel obliged to help her since she was (in her own words) “but one elderly woman.”

Based on the glimmer in her eyes, she was quite enjoying this.

“Just a bit,” he replied. “I took a class or two on it.”

As long as she didn’t rope him into matters of the estate and inheritance, he would help. He wasn’t going to get pulled into any unnecessary family drama that would leave him on the outs when she was gone.

“Well, a class or two is certainly more than anything I’ve got.” Gram leaned back in her chair, crossing her shawl over her shoulders.

“What did you study in college, Gram?” Orer asked, unable to help himself.

Please say fine arts, please say fine arts.

“Criminology,” she replied, “but that is besides the point.”

He wouldn’t have even guessed criminology existed as a major back in her day. It occurred to him that Gram might not appreciate the thought as commentary, and so he held his tongue.

“No, what I really want to talk to you about is my money. Some of it’s gone missing.”

“Oh ok.” Still pondering the history of crime studies as a degree program, Orer took a moment to realize what she had said. “Wait what?”

She brought a finger to her lips and raised an eyebrow.

“Some?” he whispered, leaning in. “How much are we talking about, exactly?”

“Go grab a cup of coffee and then we’ll talk,” she said, shooing him with a hand and turning away.

Figuring this wasn’t up for debate, he left for the kitchen and poured a mug.

“Would you like some more?” he asked when he returned, noticing her empty teacup.

“Yes, please. Black with half a spoon of sugar. I’ll take that other lemon slice I left on the counter, too.”

Request in hand, Orer retraced his steps and brought back her coffee. He waited until she had squeezed her lemon into the cup before asking, “How did it happen?”

“Your grandmother is getting old, Orer,” she said with a pat on his hand. “I can’t seem to remember what I was doing exactly three weeks ago, but it seems I made a transaction that moved thirty thousand out of one account and into, well, what I thought was another account in my name.”

“Oh Gram,” he said, looking down at his cup. “Thirty thousand?”

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She huffed, putting a distressed hand to her forehead. “I only meant to buy some jewelry, dear. I thought it would look nice with an evening gown I own.”

By “gown” he guessed she meant an actual dress and not her sleepwear.

“But why so expensive?” he pressed. It bothered him, the way their family just threw money out the window. “Couldn’t a hundred dollars get you some nice jewelry?”

“You’re a man, Orer. You wouldn’t understand,” she drawled. Kena’s personality traits, it seemed, were truly genetic.

“I suppose not,” he agreed, “but let’s see what we can do about this.”

In the meantime, maybe he could encourage her to host a garage sale and start earning some of that thirty thousand back. If there were any neighbors to even attend, that was.

“Can you show me the account names?” he asked. “And pull up the transaction dates? I assume you have a computer.”

It was just then that Kena decided to make her entrance.

“Gram!” she called from down the hallway.

“In here, dear,” Gram sang back.

Kena walked in from the opposite side of the dining room, the same way Orer had come.

“Gram!” she said again, walking over to them. “What’s the wifi password? I’ve been looking all over for it.”

Her usually stick-straight hair was fluffed up and all over her face, makeup gone from her appearance. She was still in her pajamas. Kena clearly had her priorities straight when she woke up this morning and decided to book it for the wireless.

Gram gave Orer a side eye. “Ethernet only, dear. And before you ask, there’s only one desktop computer and Orer needs it to help me with something.”

Kena huffed, much in the same way Gram had done only a moment before.

“You don’t have any cell service out here,” she said begrudgingly.

“Yes, well, there’s a landline for that. Feel free to use it anytime you need to make a call.”

The three of them knew it wasn’t calls that had Kena interested in the wifi. But impressively, she took the high road and decided to let the matter go.

“Is there breakfast?” she asked as she walked closer.

Gram smiled brightly. “On the stovetop, dear. I left out the plates from yesterday night. Forks are in the drawer to the right.”

Kena went into the kitchen. Gram turned to Orer and patted him on the arm again. “We’ll talk about our project later, hmm? Now tell me about this new job of yours.”

Fumbling with the change in topic, he hesitated. “It’s a bank job,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’ll be kind of like a broker.”

It was a lame description coming from someone who planned on making deals for a living, but for some reason, talking to Gram about it made him feel a bit embarrassed.

“How nice. I assume they’re giving you a name plate and everything?”

Yes, actually, they were. He nodded and kept sipping.

“I’m sure your father is very proud of you.”

It was too much. Orer coughed, barely managing to keep from spewing all over the table. He set the cup down and got his bearings before saying, “I didn’t do it for him.”

In a way, he felt a bit insulted that both Kena and Gram were bringing his dad up when it came to his new job. The man had hardly stepped foot into Orer’s life all these years, and what, now that Orer was trekking into the banking world like Brun, everyone thought it was because he wanted to earn some fatherly respect?

“Of course you didn’t. I’m sure that makes him even more proud. Brun’s never been one to appreciate leeches. Which you aren’t, of course.”

“I earned the job with my own merit,” he told her. Heck, it wasn’t even a six-figure job. The Janesh name hadn’t opened the door for him, nor had it been the reason he was offered the position. “And I’m working for a completely different company.”

He’d done the research on that one. The last thing he wanted was for someone to accuse him of possibly succeeding in life due to nepotism, and he wouldn’t stand for it. No, if Orer Janesh was going to make it in this life, he was going to do so alone and without the help of anyone, family or otherwise.

“Of course,” Gram replied. Even with the light tone she carried, he wasn’t too convinced that she was convinced.

Kena walked back in with her plate of sausage and eggs, and Orer decided it wasn’t worth continuing the discussion for a two-on-one debate.

He stood up. “I’m gonna get some breakfast, too.” Hopefully Kena and Gram would start talking about something else by the time he came back.

As he was grabbing himself some food, he happened to look through the kitchen window near the sink. This part of the house must’ve faced the east side: he recognized some of the trees in the distance, but the angle was different from his bedroom upstairs. He studied the landscape, wondering at how far those woods stretched. From here, it truly looked like it could be a forest.

He stood there, studying the trees, when suddenly he saw something move. Dropping the sausage he had forked onto his plate, he left the pan behind and moved to the sink, beginning to peer intensely out into the greenery.

The animal was scurrying just beyond the range of woods. Whatever it was, it seemed larger than a raccoon. Opossum, maybe? The thing had a weird gait as it ran along the line of trees, almost as if it used it’s forearms to swing itself across the ground. Whether due to lighting or something else, it seemed to blend into the foliage around it.

Not a possum, then, he thought to himself. Plus, it seemed a bit too chunky for a marsupial. I’ll have to ask Gram about that.

A second later, and the creature was gone. He stayed looking out the window a couple more seconds, as if staring alone could will it to come out again and get closer to the house, before he turned back to his plate of breakfast and realized he only had one limp piece of meat on it.

Time to focus. He went back to filling his plate before returning to the dining room, where Gram and Kena seemed to be in a heated conversation about something.

“I only want–”

“No, dear. My final answer is no.”

Orer knew when added commentary wouldn’t help, and went straight to eating his eggs without asking either Raidsworth woman what was going on.

Kena huffed and got up, taking her empty plate back into the kitchen.

I must have been staring out the window for a long time, he thought to himself, a bit surprised. Either that, or Kena hadn’t grabbed much to eat.

His cousin walked back through the dining room, ignoring them both as she made her grand exit. Orer took another sip of his coffee to avoid having to start the next topic of conversation.

“Well, I suppose we don’t have to begin working on the finances just yet,” Gram said to him, her voice a bit distant now. “If you’re looking for something to do in the meantime, the library is a nice place. Just beyond the West Wing, in that corner spot on the edge of the balcony. Some reads in there are truly fascinating.”

At least Orer knew what the rest of the day would hold.