Legacy Read Online Free Page A

it to stew all day.
    The bastard had managed to take a shower before he left and use all the hot water, but wash the sheets? Not a chance.
    Corinne fixed herself a bowl of ramen and carried it to the couch. Ina Garten was making Chicken with Wild Mushrooms in Napa Valley. And then Alton Brown made a lentil soup with cumin, coriander, and something called grains of paradise. Then Rachel Ray was about to make a 30-minute shepherd’s pie when Buck gave a lone bark and trotted toward the door.
    That was when Corinne heard a car door out front.
    “God, no,” Corinne pleaded, still curled up on the couch. One round of visitors had been quite enough for the day. Buck looked at her and back at the door, wagging. Clearly, he disagreed.
    A knock sounded, and Buck’s tail wagged even harder.
    Maybe if I just sit still, they’ll go away.
    “Corinne?” Morgan called through the door. “Are you awake?”
    Corinne contemplated feigning sleep and hoping her sister would give up and go home. It probably wouldn’t take too long for her to slip into another nap anyway.
    “Corinne? I’m coming in...”
    To her surprise, she heard a key in the lock and only had an instant to wonder how Morgan had gotten her hands on it before the door opened. Her sister spotted Corinne on the couch and frowned.
    “Were you asleep?” she asked, waddling in and closing the door behind her. Morgan placed a hand on her pregnant belly and waited for an answer.
    “No.”
    Morgan raised a brow.
    “Were you going to let me in?” she asked, irritation clear in her voice.
    “I hadn’t decided.”
    “Corinne! You were just going to leave me out there until I left? I’m six months pregnant!” Morgan complained. “I have to pee every five minutes. I’d never make it all the way back to Sugar Mill Pond.”
    I don’t recall inviting you...
    “Well, what are you doing here? And how is it that you have a copy of my key?”
    Morgan looked uncomfortable and shook her head.
    “I’ll tell you in a minute. First, I need the bathroom.” And she was gone.
    “Fine,” Corinne said to an empty room.
    She pushed herself off the couch and picked up her soup bowl and spoon. In the kitchen she contemplated just setting the dishes in the sink, but since it was empty, she almost felt bad about undoing the work that Wes—or whoever—had done, so she turned on the hot water and scrubbed the dishes herself.
    Morgan came in, heaving a sigh of relief.
    “Thank God.” She pulled out a chair from the dinette in the kitchen and sunk into it.
    Corinne regarded her over her shoulder as she rinsed the spoon.
    “How did you get the key?” she asked again.
    Morgan dropped her eyes and pursed her lips.
    “It’s Michael’s. You gave it to me to pick up his suit...remember?”
    Corinne closed her eyes. That afternoon was a blur of hospital and funeral home and the living room at the Roush’s. But she did remember now.
    She took a deep, slow breath, wanting to move away from the memory, so she repeated her other question.
    “And why are you here now?” she managed on the exhale.
    Morgan was silent.
    Corinne put the spoon with the bowl on the draining board and turned to face her sister.
    “Don’t get mad, okay?” Morgan pleaded, tucking her chin the way she did when she was nervous.
    Corinne folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the sink.
    “Why would I get mad?”
    Morgan rolled her eyes and pushed a honey-colored curl away from her face.
    “Wes Clarkson messaged me on Facebook about an hour ago,” she said, watching Corinne for a reaction. “He said you seemed a little...overwrought.”
    Corinne felt the sting of shame, but she threw her head back in mirthless laughter.
    “ Overwrought is not a word in Wes Clarkson’s vocabulary. What did he really say?”
    “Well, if you must know,” Morgan said, giving an impatient shrug and digging her phone out of her purse. “He said... ‘ Thought you should know that your sister is a whack job. Just