Texas.
Newt Town.
Outside the Sawyer Estate.
A white sedan slowly approached. Under Heather's watchful gaze, an elderly man with a white beard and a suit stepped out.
"Mr. Flanworth?"
"That's me. And you must be Heather?"
The old man looked at Heather kindly.
"Yes, that's me."
Heather nodded. "Thank you for coming all the way from Dallas."
"It was my duty."
Flanworth extended his hand for a handshake. "Everything is for Rayla. She was a good person, the finest woman I've known."
He glanced at the graffiti scrawled on the estate's front wall and sighed. "But she wasn't exactly welcomed around here."
"Can you tell me what's going on?"
Heather looked at him curiously. "A few days ago, I didn't even know I had a grandmother."
"Of course."
Flanworth handed her a manila envelope. "The inheritance documents are all in here. The process is divided into three steps. But I should tell you, Rayla didn't want you to sell this estate, so she put some restrictions in her will."
"That can wait."
Heather took the envelope but kept her eyes on him. "I want to know the story behind all of this."
"Well..."
Flanworth hesitated. Then, as if remembering something, he patted his head and pulled a letter from his pocket, handing it to Heather. "I almost forgot the most important thing. Rayla left this for you. It should explain everything you want to know."
Before Heather could respond, he handed her a long keychain and explained, "These are all the keys to the estate. Rayla was very particular about privacy and security. The electronic passcode is 0819."
After Heather took the keys, still staring at him, Flanworth averted his eyes awkwardly and pulled out a business card. "This is my card. Call me if you need anything. An accountant will help you sort through the assets later. But remember, read Rayla's letter."
"I actually need something right now."
Seeing his evasiveness, Heather became more convinced there was something wrong. She invited him, "Why don't you come inside with me? We can talk more comfortably."
"No!"
Flanworth glanced at the estate, a flash of fear crossing his eyes before he instinctively refused.
Realizing his reaction was too harsh, he awkwardly added, "I have other matters to attend to... I already made an appointment."
"Mr. Flanworth, you were close friends with my grandmother, right?"
Heather's expression softened, her voice tinged with sadness.
"Uh, yes."
Flanworth reluctantly nodded.
"My grandmother has passed away."
Heather's emotions were genuine, not just for the grandmother she never met but for the brutal reality of her own mother's tragic death at the hands of her adoptive parents. Tears welled up as she looked at Flanworth.
"I have no one here. You're the only one who can help me."
Heather's beauty was striking, and with tears in her eyes, few men could resist. Flanworth, who knew the truth and had been Rayla's lawyer and friend for years, was no exception.
"Sigh..."
Flanworth sighed heavily. "You're not alone..."
"What?"
Heather was stunned.
She had been fishing for information but didn't expect to get such a shocking revelation. Did she have other living relatives?
"But maybe you'd rather be alone."
Flanworth looked at the estate. "Sometimes ignorance is bliss."
"The truth is the truth. It can't be ignored."
Heather was firm. "I want to know everything. Please, tell me. I can handle it."
"Alright."
Flanworth looked at Heather for a moment, seeing her determination. He finally relented. "If you insist, then I'll tell you everything. It all started over twenty years ago..."
The Sawyer family had lived here for generations. Over twenty years ago, Heather's cousin, who was mentally challenged but incredibly strong, had a twisted obsession with using a chainsaw to kill. People went missing in town regularly.
The townspeople suspected the Sawyers but couldn't find any evidence. They were powerless.
One day, a young woman, covered in blood, escaped from the Sawyer house. She revealed that her friends had all been brutally murdered.
Outraged, the townspeople quickly gathered a mob and surrounded the Sawyer house. Despite the sheriff's efforts to negotiate a peaceful surrender, they ignored him, throwing flaming bottles into the house and setting it ablaze.
They then mercilessly gunned down every member of the Sawyer family.
Heather's mother managed to escape, carrying baby Heather in her arms. She collapsed by the roadside, barely alive, pleading for help from Heather's adoptive mother.
Unable to have children of her own, Heather's adoptive mother was overjoyed to find the baby. She called her husband, who was searching for survivors nearby.
He understood immediately, pretending to agree as he picked up baby Heather. But then, he mercilessly kicked Heather's mother to death.
They hid baby Heather in their car before joining the others in celebrating their so-called victory.
They paraded around like conquering heroes, some waving chainsaws, others posing with severed limbs from the Sawyer family, taking triumphant photos.
The Sawyer house burned to the ground, but the true cause of it all—Heather's chainsaw-wielding cousin—survived in the basement.
Rayla, who had been out of town, was spared. When she returned, she rebuilt the Sawyer Estate on the ruins.
Over twenty years passed, and just a few weeks ago, she passed away from illness.
"When she returned, Rayla uncovered the whole truth. She found you immediately but kept her distance to keep you safe. She watched over you from afar, never disturbing your life."
Flanworth sighed. "If she could, she wouldn't have wanted you to return. But she had no choice. She died, and your cousin in the basement needs someone to care for him."
Seeing Heather's silence, Flanworth assumed she was scared. He tried to comfort her, "Your cousin knows who you are, so don't be afraid. When Rayla took me to see him, he was even scared of me. His mind is like an eight-year-old's. He needs someone to look after him."
"This was a massacre!"
After a long silence, Heather growled, anger barely contained. "Why did no one seek justice?! If my grandmother had the resources to rebuild this place and hire a lawyer like you, why didn't she sue them?!"
"Sigh..."
Flanworth gave a bitter smile. "Child, this is Texas..."
(End of Chapter)