“Why would this Tobias Hawthorne—a man I’ve never met, never even heard of—put me in his will?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Libby said, “but that”—she gestured in the direction Grayson had gone—“is not a scam. Did you see the way he dealt with Principal Altman? What do you think their agreement was? A bribe… or a threat?”

Both. Pushing down that response, I pulled out my phone and connected to the school’s Wi-Fi. One internet search for Tobias Hawthorne later, the two of us were reading a news headline: Noted Philanthropist Dies at 78.

“Do you know what philanthropist means?” Libby asked me seriously. “It means rich.”

“It means someone who gives to charity,” I corrected her.

“So… rich.” Libby gave me a look. “What if you are charity? They wouldn’t send this guy’s grandson to get you if he’d just left you a few hundred dollars. We must be talking thousands. You could travel, Avery, or put it toward college, or buy a better car.”

I could feel my heart starting to beat faster again. “Why would a total stranger leave me anything?” I reiterated, resisting the urge to daydream, even for a second, because if I started, I wasn’t sure I could stop.

“Maybe he knew your mom?” Libby suggested. “I don’t know, but I do know that you need to go to the reading of that will.”

“I can’t just take off,” I told her. “Neither can you.” We’d both miss work. I’d miss class. And yet… if nothing else, a trip would get Libby away from Drake, at least temporarily.

And if this is real… It was already getting harder not to think about the possibilities.

“My shifts are covered for the next two days,” Libby informed me. “I made some calls, and so are yours.” She reached for my hand. “Come on, Ave. Wouldn’t it be nice to take a trip, just you and me?”

She squeezed my hand. After a moment, I squeezed back. “Where exactly is the reading of the will?”

“Texas!” Libby grinned. “And they didn’t just book our tickets. They booked them first class.”