Free Last Light by M. Pierce

rambling and seemed to realize it.
    I clutched my purse and Nate’s cash and stared up at him, afraid I would cry if I spoke. Here was the most decent guy I knew—truly—and I was lying to him in the worst possible way.
    “The kids.” He pulled me into a hug. “They love it.”
    “Yeah.” My voice was barely audible.
    Nate kept me in his arms, and I felt fine there. Nate wasn’t sleazy like Seth. He wasn’t impulsive like Matt. He was responsible. He was good. I trusted him.
    Just before I got in line to go through security, Nate drew an envelope from his inner coat pocket. He handed it to me and nodded. I narrowed my eyes.
    “What—”
    “Read it on the plane,” he said. He walked away before I could return the envelope. I watched his dark head disappear around a corner. Typical.

 
    Chapter 12
    MATT
    Melanie didn’t call. One hour turned to two, turned to six, and when my phone finally rang, I recognized the number of Hannah’s prepaid cell. I smiled and closed my notebook.
    “Hannah. Hey.”
    “Hi. I just got home.” Something thumped, a door closing or a suitcase hitting the floor. Hannah exhaled. “You won’t believe your brother.”
    “Which one?”
    “Nate. He drove me to the airport, and—”
    “Of course he did.” I scowled.
    “Matt, relax. This is Nate we’re talking about. You know, married Nate with a medical practice and kids, who probably goes to church every week.”
    “He does. You underestimate your charms.”
    “My charms?” Hannah giggled. She only giggled for me.
    “Yes, your charms. You know, the charms I threw over my whole life for.”
    Hannah got quiet.
    “Hey, I’m kidding,” I said. “But I wouldn’t put it past anyone to fall for you, all right? Even Saint Nate. So what happened?”
    “He … he gave me this letter. Before I got on my plane. It’s all technical and … well, listen.” She began to read. “‘It will be some time before the court orders a death certificate for Matt, months possibly, though I have Shapiro working on it. In a case of imminent peril such as this, presumption of death is typical. I apologize if this is’—”
    She skipped something.
    I already knew what was coming.
    “Here. Okay. ‘As I was last aware, Matt willed his estate to myself and Seth, and secondarily to any living nephews and nieces. I know, however, that if Matt had reason to anticipate his death, he would have willed his estate to you. I know how he felt about you, Hannah. We spoke about you more than once. I want to give you my portion of Matt’s estate and I won’t hear no about this.’ So, he goes on like that…”
    “Mm.” I lowered my head and rubbed my temple. “He’s right,” I said after a while. “I would have given it to you. What’s the problem?”
    “I don’t know, Matt. You mean besides lying to your brother about your death and taking your money, his money? I don’t think I can do it.”
    “Hannah, he won’t take no for an answer. Trust me. Anyway, this is what I want and you’ll do it. Think of it as me giving my money to you. I would have, and you know that, but I couldn’t rewrite my will and then disappear the way I did. This is perfect. This is better than I could have hoped.” I forced some enthusiasm into my voice.
    All told, I left Hannah with fifty thousand dollars in cash. I kept fifty thousand at the cabin with me. It was my rainy day fund, which I held first at my Denver apartment and then in the wall safe I had installed in Hannah’s condo.
    “Always have some cash on hand,” my uncle used to say, “because you never know.”
    Maybe my uncle didn’t mean one hundred grand, but I’m an overachiever.
    “I have to think about it,” Hannah said.
    “Fine, think about it.” I flipped open my notebook and began to doodle. I drew a fat little bird on a branch. “We’ll talk about it. You’re coming out, aren’t you?”
    “Yeah. I was thinking … Friday night.” Hannah’s voice lightened and I smiled.
    Yes,