Hannah’s drive home was uneventual at least. Aside from more buzzing on her phone, she had pleasant traffic before arriving at the edge of their property. They had lived here her entire life. The land rivaled some college campuses. Staff lived on site. There were gardens that housed all sorts of plants. They were even themed. 

Hannah's favorite was the food gardens. A small orchard with rows of carrots, cabbage, edible flowers, and of course potatoes. It was hardly enough to even think of a farmers market stall, but a few times a year they made lovely meals from what was grown. And the staff could take anything not needed for themselves. It encouraged them all to help maintain it. Hannah’s favorite afternoon task was to go through it and help with the weeds and pick the produce. 

Something she hadn’t done in years.

Chip claimed it was undignified.

For all she knew the gardens had been torn up in her time and the trees taken down, as  she was rarely allowed to go to that part of the property. God. Allowed. How was that even a sentence? She owned the property. Even now she owns it. Her mother wasn’t to be kicked out without just cause, per the will, but she owned the damn property. Hannah was the one that had to give permission for the new house to be built. That she wasn’t even going to get to keep.

Hannah continued down the long driveway, up to the wrought iron gates. Her father had them designed to look like computer chips. It was a way to remind the world what the entire family’s wealth had come from. Not just her father’s tech company. But the wealth that came before. Both her grandparents were engineers. Her Grammy Kerr didn’t earn the degree until the late 70’s, but she had already studied her husband's books before them. Both were very successful and even helped with design work for the military. And before that? Her great grandmother was a calculator, with her great grandfather being a professor of engineering at top ivy league schools.

“Each generation should work to make things better for the next.” was the phrase welded to the gate. Her father truly believed in that. He had been ready to listen to Hannah about how more needed to be done to help the world. But then he suddenly died. No warning. Just crushed by some equipment at one of the work sites. No one had been able to explain it, but no foul play had been found.

Hannah gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. She had only felt confident sharing her ideas with her father the first time around. Right now she hated herself for that. How could she let her family convince her to ignore that saying? Simply pretend her father never believed in such things? Sure, the company grew. They got even more money in the next several years. But at what cost?

As the car rolled to a stop, she peeled her fingers off the steering wheel. No. Being angry wouldn’t help. It wouldn’t prevent the massive downsizing, the ending of charities, the pushing of untested products. Hannah knew what was coming, to a degree. She needed to work to head off those issues and be aware enough to get ahead of new plots. Which meant starting with fooling her family.

Hannah stepped out and took her bag out of the back seat. Her suit and shoes were still inside. Her chest tightened as she turned to the mansion and its bright red doors. It felt wrong, walking in without changing first. But she needed to do this. The sugar pills would explain everything with her behavior and that included wearing this back home after wearing it in public. There was no reason medicated Hannah would bother changing.

Throwing the bag and purse over one shoulder, she walked up the steps to the front door. As always, when she reached the fourth step, the butler opened the door and stood there waiting for her to enter. Normally he gave the royal British soldiers a run for their money. Seeing her in something like Pajamas was throwing him off.

“Young miss! What happened? Do you require a change in clothing?” He held out his right hand to take the bag with the clothing while snapping his fingers, summoning two other staff members.

“That won’t be needed, Mr. Matthew. But as always, I appreciate it.” Hannah gave a warm smile to her father’s oldest staff member still present. “This is homework from my therapist.”

Matthew gave her a hard look. He could tell from when she was a small girl if she was telling the truth or not. This moment felt no different. He could even tell if it was the entire story or not. He lightly tilted his head to the side as he took the bag of clothing. 

“I see.” The doubt dripped off those words to where they pooled around their feet. “Young Miss, I shall discuss with you later about the homework you have. Is there anything else I must know?”

“Oh yes!” Hannah pulled out the pill bottles and shook them. “I have some medication.”

His expression softened. “Your father would be so sorry to hear your grief caused you to need this.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Matthew.” Hannah’s smile grew. “It’s only for a while. Look, no shakes or stuttering.”

“It is pleasant to see, young Miss. What are the directions?” He handed off the bag to one of the other staff and started to walk her towards her bedroom, offering his arm as they walked.

“I need to have them with my meals. And they need to be proper meals.” She happily took the arm. Honestly, she felt a bit giddy. 

In her time, he was dead. 

In fairness, the man was at least 65. He refused to retire as long as Hannah might need him. And he tried to run both her home and her mother’s. The doctors had apparently warned him the stress might do him in. But his loyalty was too high. And she was too scared to do what was best for him.

Hannah, as they went up the marble steps, suddenly realized something important. If she took that other house, the same thing might happen again. Mr. Matthews deserved to live as long as possible. Even if her efforts only bought him a few extra weeks. Though she hoped him gaining years would be the end result. Despite his white balding hair, he still had the spring in his step of a man half his age. 

“Mr. Matthews. There is something I’d like to do at dinner tonight. Will everyone be there?”

“Master Chip is supposed to be present, but I understand he is having a … meeting.” Mr. Matthew half spat out the word as they reached the top of the flight of stairs. “So he may not be present.”

“That won’t do. Mr. Matthew, I give you permission to do whatever it takes to get him at the table.” Hannah huffed. Her body was more out of shape than she remembered. “He needs to hear what I have to say as well.”

Mr. Matthew’s step only hesitated a moment before he picked up the pace to her room. “The last time I did that, you were in tears for three days from his harsh words. Are you certain?”

“If he’s to join the Kerr family he will need to learn that sometimes you can’t avoid certain appointments. Right?” Hannah was trying as hard as she could to look calm and cool. To avoid the nerves she felt.

Why did she feel nervous about this? She knew what slime Chip was, now. She knew he was scum who deserved to be thrown into a pit. Hannah had even said as much before she died. Part of her wanted to hide from this. Everyone else always made it sound like once you realized people were scum, the hard part was done. No one talked about the mix of fear and guilt around everything surrounding them. 

It was nice to know Dr. Fry still had a job working out all of that mess in her head.

“I have to be. This is important. And,” Hannah looked as they passed her bedroom. “Mr. Matthew? Why aren’t we stopping at my room?”

“Master Beauregard wishes to see you. He was quite worried about the social media thing and your phone conversation.” He glanced back at Hannah before facing forward again. “I apologize, I assumed you knew he’d wish to talk to you directly.”

Hannah let out a slow breath. She couldn’t blame him. How hard was it for the man to balance all the family members' wants and needs? And it’s not like he knew her own brother might be responsible for her death in the future. She wasn’t even sure! He was easily the most upset about her confrontation, but only in showing it. The others might have been more upset. Or already had plans in the work.

And that was assuming it wasn’t just an accident. Technically that was a possibility as well. Hannah wasn’t feeling sure about that, but she didn’t want to really give them the benefit of the doubt. She couldn’t afford to. After all she was lucky to get this chance. 

“I wasn’t aware it’d be right now. But as long as I have a chance to talk to the chef.”

“Young Miss, I will happily tell the chef to prepare you a proper meal. He will be thrilled to give you something other than that water pretending to be soup.”