Chapter 1 - The Grass Is Bleeding Water
The heavy jet of water tore through the crisp afternoon air, smashing into the mahogany frame with the force of a small fire hose. Evelyn stood astride the manicured lawn of her childhood home, the sequins on her bright yellow, one-shoulder dress catching the harsh suburban sunlight in blinding metallic flashes. A cheap plastic tiara tilted wildly on her blonde curls, vibrating with every jerk of her chin.
“Stop! Take this funeral somewhere else! I said move it!” Evelyn shrieked, her voice cutting through the humid air like a rusty saw.
Across the lawn, Clara dropped to her knees in the wet grass. The mourning woman in black frantically scooped up mud-soaked photographs, her fingers slipping against shattered glass as the high-pressure stream blasted another frame off the white linen tablecloth.
“Evelyn, have you lost your absolute mind? This is your father we are honoring!” Clara screamed back, her voice cracking with pure disbelief. She wiped muddy water from her eyes, clutching a portrait of Arthur Vance to her chest like a shield.
“He is not your father! He was mine, and you people stole every single second of his final year!” Evelyn barked, twisting the nozzle tighter to increase the spray.
Arthur Vance had been dead for precisely four days, yet the civil war over his estate, his legacy, and his final resting place had clearly been waging behind closed doors for decades. Now, it had erupted onto the suburban grass in a spectacle of malice and garden accessories.
Arthur’s oldest friend, Richard, stepped heavily into the arc of the water, a dark suit sodden and clinging to his frame. He held a large framed portrait of Arthur aloft, using his broad shoulders to block the torrent aimed at Clara.
“Evelyn, enough! Lower the hose right now or I swear I will call the sheriff,” Richard shouted, his face dark with fury.
“Go ahead! Call them! Let them see what these vultures did!” Evelyn screamed, her eyes wide and manic as she gestured wildly toward the ruined memorial table.
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As the police sirens wailed faintly in the distance, Richard lowered the portrait and whispered something into Clara’s ear that made her drop all the pictures completely.
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