Chapter 5: Magnolia Nights and Family Schemes

That night, I climbed out onto the roof and gazed over the entire Morgan estate. The place was covered in thick luck—the kind only found in families with deep roots or virtue. Truly a nest of prosperity. From what I could see, everyone here, from the Morgans to the staff, seemed gentle and kind. So what was it about Derek that unsettled me? Was I just overthinking it? Maybe I should meet those two kids first.

A warm breeze carried the scent of magnolia blossoms and barbecue smoke. The cicadas were loud enough to drown out my thoughts, but not my worries. I sat cross-legged on the shingles, feeling the house’s pulse, the old bones of Southern wealth mixed with something I couldn’t quite name.

At lunch the next day, as the honored guest, I was treated to a big family meal by Mrs. Morgan. The Morgan family was small—three generations with only one heir in each. In this generation, Derek was the only son. With such a lineage, it was generous of them not to pressure my sister about kids. If Max and Tessa truly weren’t Derek’s, what harm in adopting them? But I still feared a hidden scheme.

I ate quietly.

“Taylor, do you like the food here in Savannah?”

“Thank you, ma’am. The food is delicious—I like it a lot.”

“Good, as long as you like it.”

My sister gently picked up some mac and cheese for me.

“Taylor, have some mac and cheese—it’s your favorite.”

I stared at the mac and cheese in my bowl, covering my mouth as a wave of nausea hit me.

“Ugh.”

When I was little, I nearly choked to death on a piece of hot dog. Ever since, anything with hot dogs makes me gag. Just the smell brought it all back—the panic, the gasping, the taste of fear.

“Taylor, what’s wrong?” my sister asked, anxious.

I looked at her, unable to explain, feeling wronged.

“Sis, you don’t even remember I can’t stand hot dogs anymore?”

She froze, genuinely confused. “You can’t?”

But Mrs. Morgan’s face flashed with a hint of panic before she quickly regained her composure. Her fingers drummed once on the table, sharp and impatient.

“If Taylor can’t eat hot dogs, then don’t force yourself. Folks, take it away.”

She snapped her fingers at the housekeeper, her smile a little too sharp. I caught the quick look she shot at my sister, like they were actors fumbling the lines of an old play.

Just then, Derek’s voice came from the door.

“Did Taylor suffer some grievance?”

He entered, leading two little kids by the hand. Mrs. Morgan beamed.

“Didn’t you say you couldn’t come?”

“How could I miss such an important meal for Taylor? Max and Tessa insisted on seeing their mom, so we were delayed.”

He tousled Tessa’s hair. She giggled, clutching her favorite stuffed fox. Max’s sneakers squeaked on the hardwood, and he looked at the food like he hadn’t eaten in days.

The old lady quickly beckoned the kids over. “No matter, come sit.”

The staff served them, adding extra mac and cheese for Tessa. The two kids were adorable, clearly pampered and raised with care. The little girl piped up, “Mac and cheese is so yummy!”

Not just Tessa—Max also seemed to love mac and cheese more than anything else. Watching them eat, then glancing at the untouched mac and cheese in my bowl, something clicked in my mind.

I stared at the way they shovelled cheesy noodles into their mouths, noodles sticking to their cheeks, and wondered about the strange symmetry between their favorite food and my supposed favorite.

Mrs. Morgan noticed my expression and hurried to explain my sister’s earlier mistake.

“Taylor, Aubrey takes such good care of Max and Tessa that she probably confused their favorite food with yours.”

I nodded, pretending to understand.

“My sister has always been gentle and kind. The kids are well-behaved—eating more will make them smart.”

Mrs. Morgan’s eyes flashed with satisfaction.

“Your parents seldom visit Savannah, Taylor. Now that you’re here, there’s something we’d like to discuss. You can tell your parents when you return.”

I put down my fork and listened quietly.

“Aubrey hasn’t conceived in three years. We’d like to adopt Max and Tessa under her name, so she’ll have someone to rely on in the future.”

The room went quiet, every eye on me, like I was the judge and jury.

I had already checked—these two kids had no blood connection to Derek. So they weren’t his kids. If my sister never had children, adopting or Derek taking another path was just a matter of time. Such a grand estate needed an heir. As for the children I’d seen in Derek’s fate, I was determined to uncover the truth. When the time came, my sister could decide what to do.

I smiled brightly.

“The Bennett family respects my sister’s wishes.”

My sister’s eyes flashed with surprise. “I’m willing to adopt Max and Tessa.”

Her reaction was odd. Just last night, she’d been worried about this; today, she seemed overjoyed. The others at the table were all delighted—even the usually reserved Mr. Morgan was beaming. But I couldn’t smile. I stared at my sister’s face, over and over.

It was her face, but she’d always been thoughtful and sensitive. Now, she acted like someone with no soul. My heart thudded. Was I losing my mind, or had someone swapped my sister out like a lightbulb?

My sister’s moments of confusion were just like someone who’d lost part of their spirit. Could someone really be so brazen? But I dismissed the thought—my sister’s body still held all her spirit and energy.

*Footnote: In traditional American folk belief, a person’s soul and spirit represent different aspects of consciousness and vitality.

Then what was causing all this?

I pressed my palms together under the table, praying quietly in the old Bennett way, searching for any flicker of spirit out of place in this house of surface perfection.