As her car pulled in the driveway, Salem breathed a sigh of relief to have the day behind her. It had been as though it would all never end. Everyone in the firm felt the need to drop by her office to extend their deepest sympathies. She appreciated the sincerity behind it and knew it was all out of genuine affection for her and appreciation of her loss, but what she desired most was to resume normality. Salem needed to drown herself in her work but that was inevitably not possible. Travis had warned her that the office staff would probably not leave her alone very much on her first day back, but assured her “It’ll be better tomorrow.”

  She was relieved to be pulling up in front of her house again—the place she’d been relieved to get away from that morning. Salem grabbed take-out on the way home after receiving a frantic call from Arielle that she had burned dinner again. Salem opened the front door and walked inside. She nearly dropped the take-out containers when she saw the pile of boxes stacked in the living room. Dozens of boxes all labeled either David or Michael and sealed with box tape.

  “Don’t get mad,” Arielle begged, meeting her at the door. “I went ahead and boxed up their things. But now I’m thinking that might have been wrong. You might have wanted to do that. But I just thought it was too soon for you to deal with, but you also can’t keep running into their things, which causes you pain, every time you walk into a room or open a drawer. I’m sorry. I realized after the last box was sealed that this was a huge mistake and I overstepped.”

  Salem was speechless. She didn’t know exactly how she felt about it.

  “The boxes written in red ink are things I thought you might want to keep--toys, books, clothes. The ones in blue might be things you want to give to charity--David’s suits, old shoes, stuff like that. The ones in black are things I’m not sure what you want to do with. Are you mad?”

  “No,” Salem muttered. “Just shocked. You have been busy today. I—I’m not sure what I feel. I know I’m not ready to throw anything out yet, but I also am not strong enough to keep seeing their things all around. Thank you for packing it up for me. We’ll put everything in the basement and later on, when I’m ready, I can go through the boxes.”

  “I was so afraid you’d be furious with me.”

  “No, Arielle,” Salem reassured her. “Even if it was presumptuous, it was also thoughtful and well intended.”

  They watched television while they ate dinner. Salem felt a peace in the house with Arielle there helping to fill the emptiness. And she admitted to herself that Arielle’s removal of the painful reminders did do a lot to make the house seem less depressing.

  “You’re good for me, Arielle,” she said, gnawing a rib from the barbeque take-out. “I really think your coming here to visit was exactly what I needed. I’m enjoying getting to know you.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “I love being here,” Arielle replied. “I love getting to know my big sister. Cassandra has never made it easy to be close to her. When I saw you that night at Oleander—I can’t explain it. I just felt something. As if something I’ve been waiting for all of my life showed up. I’ve heard your name a few times when people didn’t think I was listening. The mysterious other daughter of Xander Obreiggon. And now here I am, in your house eating out of a carton, watching TV. I’m so happy.”

  “When are you planning to go back to Charleston?”

  “I haven’t thought about it,” Arielle said. “I suppose in a day or two. But if I’m in the way, or if you think you need some time alone, I can go tomorrow. I’ll understand.”

  Salem looked at the naive girl in front of her. Salem already felt very protective of her. Arielle was so innocent, so understanding, so vulnerable. My little sister. She didn’t like the idea of her having to live with people that were unkind to her.

  “I don’t want you to leave.”

  “Oh, good,” Arielle exclaimed. “I was hoping to be able to stay with you for a few days at least. I can go back home this weekend. That’ll give us more time to visit, and then I’ll be out of your hair, and you can have your privacy back.”

  Salem gave a frustrated groan. Poor Arielle was so unable to pick up on even the simplest cues. What must her life have been like? Always feeling she was in the way, or a burden. Here Salem was attempting to convey that she liked having her around, and Arielle was still under the impression her company was merely being tolerated. She’s probably never in her life been made to feel wanted or important.

  “No, Arielle, I was thinking that I don’t want you to leave at all,” Salem explained. “I really like having you around. Of course, I know that’s selfish on my part. Oleander is your home. There’s your father. And surely you have friends in Charleston. But I was thinking, you have never been on your own before. Here you could come and go as you please. And you and I can keep on building a relationship. Would you like to stay with me?”

  Arielle was confused. “Do you mean extend my stay? Or are you inviting me to move here permanently?”

  “Live here. With me. Your sister.”

  The bliss on Arielle’s face was answer enough, but she still shouted, “Oh, Salem! I would love to! I’ll have Daddy send the rest of my clothes. I don’t really have anything else. Mother decorates our rooms to her taste so I don’t have anything of mine to move.”

  “Will he mind too much if you move here?”

  “He’ll be sad without me, but once he hears who I am moving in with he will love the idea!” Arielle beamed. “And I’m sure he will find a way to send me money for expenses until I find a job. Although Mother does control the finances…but he has ways of getting around her when he needs to.”

  “Even if he can’t, don’t worry,” Salem assured. “I make a decent income and can take care of us both until you find something you want to do.” She paused for a moment, wondering about what Arielle said. Then she asked, “How did Atheidrelle manage to get control of your father’s money?”

  “Oh, the money was always Mother’s,” Arielle explained. “Daddy owns Oleander. It’s been in the Obreiggon family forever. And he has a reasonable inheritance of his own. But the real money is all D’Angelo money. My grandfather, Hugh D’Angelo, had millions. When he died, he left everything to my uncle Thaddeuss and Mother. My Aunt Blackie didn’t get a thing.”

  “Did old Hugh not like his other daughter?” Salem asked.

  “He died a few months before I was born, so I don’t really know a whole lot about him. My mother and her sister haven’t spoken in years. I think there was something peculiar about the way Grandfather died, but no one ever proved anything.”