The Last in Line (The Royal Inheritance Series Book 1) Read Online Free
Author: Evie Banks
nueve…”
Renee fiddled with the tuning dial and the antenna, but everything came in fuzzy. Finally, she found a channel in English and turned the volume up. A newsperson was speaking in serious tones.
“…as yet unclear how many survivors there may be. The Queen and her immediate family are surely among the victims. Emergency responders are on the scene dousing the flames. It was, according to witnesses, a huge conflagration, an explosion that rattled houses and blew out windows miles away…”
The picture showed numerous fire trucks and ambulances with lights revolving.
The sound turned to static. Renee switched it off.
“Hey, put back the futból!” said Antonio.
“Oh, sorry.” Renee found the channel and set the portable television on a shelf so he could continue watching it as he worked.
She felt numb. It must have happened right after her electricity got shut off. The destruction of the beloved institution coupled with her argument with Ray this morning made her feel hollowed out. The feeling didn’t improve when she got home after her shift and saw that Ray’s side of the closet was empty, as was the refrigerator.
She opened a kitchen cupboard and reached behind a box of corn flour. Her fingers wrapped around a can. She set it on the counter and prayed before opening the lid. When she opened her eyes again she breathed out in one long exhalation of relief. The roll of green bills was still there, as well as a pack of cigarettes. She stuffed the cash in her wallet and did something she hadn’t done in months—lit a cigarette on the stove before sinking into her favorite corner of the sofa. The shadows were long in the room and soon there would be no light at all.
CHAPTER TWO
THREE WEEKS LATER Renee had fallen into an uncomfortable, but stable rhythm. She would bundle Cassandra off to school in the morning and then rush over to the diner to see if she could catch a couple of extra hours of work before the start of her regular shift. Most mornings were busy enough that she could jump right in, no questions asked, but on the rare occasions when Bryan, the owner, sat out in the dining area, he would shake his head no and Renee would have to wait until 10am. She would then spend her entire shift in a state of nerves until she found out if someone had called out of the evening shift and she could fill in. This meant that most days she worked from 8am until 10pm when the diner closed and though she felt bad about leaving Cassandra home alone in the evening, she was starting to feel a small twinge of hope that she might be able to make it through this rough patch. The rent was partially paid and she had worked out an agreement with the landlord to pay the rest in installments, there was food in the kitchen in addition to what she brought home from the diner every night, and though she had opted not to turn the cable back on, the electric bill was at least taken care of, though there was a stack of other bills piling up on the table in the corner. She tried never to look at them.
Today there was no need for her in the evening at the diner and Cassandra had called to say she was at her friend Stacy’s house. It was the first time she’d had a chance to unwind in weeks, though what that really meant was catching up on housework. It was only 5pm so she pulled a large basket of laundry to the sofa and turned on the television.
The last of the funerals were being broadcast. There were several hundred more people to bury, but few of them warranted media screen time. As macabre as it sounded, she had become hooked on these funerals. Every night when she arrived home she would spend a few minutes sitting on the edge of Cassandra’s bed talking to her about the day, kiss her goodnight and then move into the living room to watch the evening news before going exhausted to bed to start the whole cycle over again the next day. Every night was a new round of funerals and updates on the ongoing investigation, which
Renee fiddled with the tuning dial and the antenna, but everything came in fuzzy. Finally, she found a channel in English and turned the volume up. A newsperson was speaking in serious tones.
“…as yet unclear how many survivors there may be. The Queen and her immediate family are surely among the victims. Emergency responders are on the scene dousing the flames. It was, according to witnesses, a huge conflagration, an explosion that rattled houses and blew out windows miles away…”
The picture showed numerous fire trucks and ambulances with lights revolving.
The sound turned to static. Renee switched it off.
“Hey, put back the futból!” said Antonio.
“Oh, sorry.” Renee found the channel and set the portable television on a shelf so he could continue watching it as he worked.
She felt numb. It must have happened right after her electricity got shut off. The destruction of the beloved institution coupled with her argument with Ray this morning made her feel hollowed out. The feeling didn’t improve when she got home after her shift and saw that Ray’s side of the closet was empty, as was the refrigerator.
She opened a kitchen cupboard and reached behind a box of corn flour. Her fingers wrapped around a can. She set it on the counter and prayed before opening the lid. When she opened her eyes again she breathed out in one long exhalation of relief. The roll of green bills was still there, as well as a pack of cigarettes. She stuffed the cash in her wallet and did something she hadn’t done in months—lit a cigarette on the stove before sinking into her favorite corner of the sofa. The shadows were long in the room and soon there would be no light at all.
CHAPTER TWO
THREE WEEKS LATER Renee had fallen into an uncomfortable, but stable rhythm. She would bundle Cassandra off to school in the morning and then rush over to the diner to see if she could catch a couple of extra hours of work before the start of her regular shift. Most mornings were busy enough that she could jump right in, no questions asked, but on the rare occasions when Bryan, the owner, sat out in the dining area, he would shake his head no and Renee would have to wait until 10am. She would then spend her entire shift in a state of nerves until she found out if someone had called out of the evening shift and she could fill in. This meant that most days she worked from 8am until 10pm when the diner closed and though she felt bad about leaving Cassandra home alone in the evening, she was starting to feel a small twinge of hope that she might be able to make it through this rough patch. The rent was partially paid and she had worked out an agreement with the landlord to pay the rest in installments, there was food in the kitchen in addition to what she brought home from the diner every night, and though she had opted not to turn the cable back on, the electric bill was at least taken care of, though there was a stack of other bills piling up on the table in the corner. She tried never to look at them.
Today there was no need for her in the evening at the diner and Cassandra had called to say she was at her friend Stacy’s house. It was the first time she’d had a chance to unwind in weeks, though what that really meant was catching up on housework. It was only 5pm so she pulled a large basket of laundry to the sofa and turned on the television.
The last of the funerals were being broadcast. There were several hundred more people to bury, but few of them warranted media screen time. As macabre as it sounded, she had become hooked on these funerals. Every night when she arrived home she would spend a few minutes sitting on the edge of Cassandra’s bed talking to her about the day, kiss her goodnight and then move into the living room to watch the evening news before going exhausted to bed to start the whole cycle over again the next day. Every night was a new round of funerals and updates on the ongoing investigation, which
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