"I'm sorry Miss Rigel. The value of your home isn't enough to justify a mortgage of this size."   

    "Even including land value with the home?"

    "Unfortunately, yes."

    Nimma felt a bubble of frustration and despair rise in her chest. She'd known this loan was far from a sure thing nevertheless this blow hit hard.

    "This doesn't have to mean the end of our business. If you would consider lowering the amount you're asking for there may be a chance that would meet approval." The loan officer typed something into her computer and then printed out a series of papers. "These are other options with very reasonable interest rates that might pass muster." 

    Nimma bit her lip after examining it. While any amount of money from this list would certainly help it was still far from what was needed. Sighing, Nimma folded the papers and put them in her purse. She thanked the woman and headed the eight blocks to the law office she worked at.

    The walk wasn't long but this time of year it felt longer. The decorations for the festival had started going up last week. Everywhere she looked reminders of what would come in the following months stared her in the face.  The Disillusion Mountains stood tall on all the banners along with the logo of the Towers family. To an outsider it would seem nothing more than an interesting banner.

    To the people of Star City it was something more; a legacy of triumph and progress to some, and murder and treachery to others. Nimma focused her eyes on the sidewalk and refused to look up. Though that didn't help when the banners were also plastered to the windows of stores she passed. She sighed wishing she could safely operate a vehicle so they would pass quickly. She let out a breath of relief as the front of Trucker's Law Firm came into view; blissfully barren of the poster and banners she'd always hated.

     The bell tinkled overhead as she stepped into the office. Today was a Friday so the office opened later than normal and closed early. However as usual, Selmmie Aster, the only attorney in this small office, was already behind her desk with a stack of case files in front of her. Nimma could just see the bright pink hair of her boss over the file she was examining.     

    "Selmmie! I'm in."

    "Good. Can you make sure all our current cases are up to snuff? We need to get the Williams vs. Bradley case a date in court. Don't forget the House vs. Shelby affidavit needs to be copied, notarized, and dropped off for opposing council! I have an important lunch meeting today I can't be late for. Make sure I'm out the door at least a quarter to noon."

    "You got it." Nimma tied her long blue hair into a ponytail.      

🌺

    Selmmie hadn't come back to the office. She'd sent Nimma a text saying the meeting was running long and to cancel any appointments for the day. Nimma spent the afternoon making phone calls to slightly annoyed or irate clients. Definitely that was her least favorite part of her job. As soon as the clock struck two, Nimma locked up the office and hailed a cab.  

    A five mile walk from the town center wasn't difficult especially for a former soldier like Nimma. Today though she needed to clean her chimney, which was a task she wasn't looking forward too, and would require much of her remaining energy.

    The family home had only been in her possession for a month; ever since the death of her Great-aunt. It was a large place but old fashioned. Great-aunt Rockbell had kept the aging home in the best condition possible through the years. Some things slipped through even her careful hands though–like the cleaning of the chimney.         

    Nimma hadn't known Rockbell well. For most of Nimma's life she was only someone seen at family reunions. This made it surprising when Rockbell had left the old place to her. It wasn't like there was a lack of options but they weren't exactly the closest knit family. Cousin Hugh lived four towns away, Great-niece Riza was too young and Rockbell didn't get along with the girl's parents. Most of the Rigel clan had left Star City for places where their name wasn't immediately recognized. Only the stubborn ones like Nimma, her late parents, and good old Rockbell were obstinate enough to stay.

    Nimma's military career had taken her away for ten years; but once she was out of the hospital and officially discharged, Star City was where she decided to stay. For better or worse this city was under her skin and her roots were firmly in this soil. Nimma taped some plastic over the fireplace to stop debris from getting all over the living room, grabbed the tallest ladder, and hauled the heavy brush to the roof.    

    From this vantage Nimma could see the vast garden that took up much of the back end of the property. It had been the most pleasant surprise about inheriting the place. Now it also cracked a seal on the well of sadness within her which she tried so hard to keep shut.

    For as long as Nimma could remember she'd loved flowers. Often Nimma would walk to the meadow on the very south end of town and sit there with the beautiful flowers. It was one of the few places she felt true peace. Now even that sanctuary was gone.        

    Nimma pushed the brush down the chimney with more force. It sent a puff of ash up which made her glad she was wearing a mask and sunglasses. But she hadn't put on a cap or anything to keep the stuff out of her hair. She'd need a good scrubbing once this was done.

    The backyard caught her attention again as she pulled the brush up. It would be a fine start to the floristry of her dreams. If she could get the money her family home would make a great place to set up shop. It would be her way to bring some beauty back to the town. The hardest part would be coming up with a name for it.

Nimma left the now ash covered brush on the front porch. Now all she had to do was vacuum the fireplace and she could shower and grab some dinner. She was almost done when it caught her eye.

    A brick was sticking out farther than the others. Odd. It hadn't been like that before she started cleaning. But the place was old, over two hundred years. It seemed like this was just one more thing in need of repair. Nimma climbed a bit farther into the fireplace to get a better look.

    The brick was so loose that it could be jostled up and down with just a touch of her finger. On impulse she just pulled the thing out. It was heavier than it looked.

    As she went to set it down she was startled by something heavy hitting her thigh. A small but thick book had fallen out of the brick. Just to make sure she turned it over and sure enough the brick was hollow and much lighter.

    "What the hell?" What was Great-aunt Rockbell hiding a book for? Quickly she snatched the book and opened the cover.

    "No." The name neatly printed inside wasn't Rockbell Rigel. It was the infamous Regina Rigel. This book belonged to their outlaw ancestor famed for stealing gold from the Towers family; until she disappeared. But it wasn't some piece of old literature. As Nimma flipped through it she saw that this book was a journal.      

    After just a cursory examination Nimma found something that blew her mind. The last entry was dated Oalm 31, 1894. That wasn't possible. Regina Rigel had disappeared in The Disillusion Mountains for the final time when she was twenty–seven. If this was true the woman had lived to almost a hundred. She may have even reached that age and beyond.

    Frantic, Nimma jumped up and sprinted for the stairs that would take her to the attic. She bumped into pieces of furniture and hit her hip on the railing. No doubt she'd be covered in bruises tomorrow but that didn't matter to her now. She had to get to the attic. 

    In the attic there was a trunk that was rarely opened. Nimma knew inside were some of the only writings in existence which were confirmed to be written by Regina herself. They were the letters that had made her an even bigger name. Those letters had even given The Disillusion Mountains their name. It was a legacy that had caused her family nothing but grief since.

    The door to the attic was stuck shut. Grunting, Nimma slammed into the door as hard as possible with her shoulder. The hinges creaked and gave way. The entire door came down and Nimma fell with it. No doubt adding to the tally of bruises she'd be sure to have and probably throwing in more than a few splinters for good measure.  

    "Damn it," she said through gritted teeth. Nimma got to her feet shakily and fumbled for the light switch. There was a single bulb that didn't give much illumination beyond the center of the attic.

    The trunk was tucked in a far corner, behind other odds and ends that the family had stashed up here. Nimma huffed as she found what she was looking for under photos that had turned red and some grey with age. She grabbed the letters, safely laminated to preserve them, and rushed back to the light.

    Nimma was no expert handwriting analyst, but after an hour of comparing the journal and notes, she came to a conclusion. Regina had written this journal. All the entries after the date Regina disappeared were written in her hand. No doubt.   

    Nimma carefully put everything back in order minus the door she'd knocked down. Feeling numb she dumped the journal on her bed and went to take a shower. The presence of the journal felt like it was burning a hole into her. Afterwards Nimma took the journal downstairs with her.       

    As she ate dinner, Nimma couldn't help but glare at the thick journal. History recorded that Regina had most likely died in 1824 at the age of twenty–seven. That The Disillusion Mountains had finally claimed her as another victim of their curse few doubted. Now Nimma knew that wasn't true. Her hands began to shake uncontrollably.

    Regina Rigel had stolen from the family that ruined her life and lives of others in Star City. She'd been hailed as a hero by many. Then for some reason that hero abandoned her daughter and let the world believe her dead.