Free Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) by K Anne Raines

feeling after Grace’s meeting she wouldn’t waste much time getting to the bank and was thankful she was able to get some rest. Unfortunately, rest and time wouldn’t do much in helping her wrap her brain around what she had really inherited from Christophe .

 
    Grace woke with a start, jolting upright. The last time she remembered seeing her cell it was on her nightstand, but she strained to find it while blindly seeking out her flats on the floor with her toes. Finally she found it, breathed a sigh of relief, and gave up the toe braille. She didn’t have to leave for another twenty minutes or so. With both hands, she hooked her thumbs above her ears and slid her hands over her head, attempting to smooth her hair back and away from her face. Tendrils resisted and crunched as she tried to pull the hunks from her cheek.
    “ Gross,” she shrieked as she ran to the bathroom. Examining the evidence further in the mirror confirmed it was drool. “Great.” She sighed, eyeing her reflection. “I’m a drooler.” Defeated, she moved away from the mirror, not wanting to think about what else could be dried in her hair and grabbed her comb and detangler, hoping to tame the mass of hair. Once satisfied with the results, she washed her face with a washcloth and touched up her mascara before brushing on a little blush. After stepping far enough away from the mirror, Grace gave herself another once-over and gasped at her wrinkled clothes.
    “ Oh no,” she cried, and ran back into her bedroom to throw open the closet door. Having never attended a reading-of-the-will meeting before, she stood gazing wide-eyed at her clothes. Her favorite sundress—a wide-strapped yellow baby doll—caught her eye so she grabbed it. She dressed faster than she’d ever dressed before. Five minutes later, she was running out the door.
    Even though meteorologists had said the heat was from a warm air mass that moved in from Arizona, it still left Grace bewildered. It normally wasn’t hot like this until summer. The air circled about her in a heavy, humid shroud. It was so hot and thick it choked her. Once inside the car, panic settled in as she tried to get the key in the ignition. Coupling the desperate need for circulating air with her wound-up nerves, it took a couple of tries until she was successful in starting the car and driving away. Ahh, she thought. Air. The moving air did nothing to settle her nerves, however.
    The truth was, she didn’t want to go anywhere near that meeting.
    Grace envisioned her spectacle of a family. Would they put on a show? Shed a few tears? Maybe get angry if they didn’t get what they thought was fair? Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she blinked them fast away. Her family wasn’t worth the energy it took to cry. The memory of how horrible each of them had been to her grandfather pulled angrily at her heartstrings.
    With her cell in hand, she opened the map app and double-checked the address before following the directions to Rasmussen & Minor in Bountiful.
    After driving north on 200 West for a little while, Grace saw in the distance the town’s name, Bountiful, spelled out by a plush green hedge lining the state park the GPS indicated she was to take a right turn after.
    The law offices of Rasmussen & Minor sat on the corner, with entrances facing both Center and Main. Not exactly positive which entry was best, she turned right on Main and parked in the parking lot under the shade of a weeping willow tree.
    The attorney’s office was a three-story brick and stucco colonial, with red brick on the bottom of its facade and brown stucco on the top. Large white marble pillars stretched up on either side of both entryways leading into the building. Inside the door, she found a glass-encased directory. Her eyes scanned the list of names, and lingered over Paul Minor for a few seconds before she walked to the elevator. His office was on the third floor.
    Nervous moisture coated her palms. Completely