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About the Author: Aggie lives with her wife by the beach in Australia, where she spends most of her time hiding from the sun and heat. She writes around studying for her pharmacy degree and entertaining her three dogs. She loves all kinds of speculative fiction and often draws inspiration from Slavic folklore and mythology. When not writing she can be found drinking tea and reading everything in sight.
Cecil slowly poured his sister a cup of tea, not breaking eye contact. It was horrifically over-brewed, and she winced as she sipped the bitter beverage.
“Sybil, Sybil, Sybil.”
He raised his own tea to his lips and blew at the steam, imagining he exhaled smoke from a cigar.
His sister squirmed on her overturned crate. Uncomfortable. Just where he wanted her.
“Cecil, what are we doing in the garden shed? And why are you wearing that hat? You look ridiculous.”
He lifted a hand to his head. He’d found the moth-eaten deerstalker hanging on the door. It covered his thinning hair nicely—Great Aunt Edna had many hidden treasures.
“I wanted to speak to you privately.”
“About?”
“I know what you did, Sybil.”
“What are you talking about?”
He leaned forward, easily closing the space between them. It was a small shed.
“I think that’s rather obvious. Our Great Aunt, stabbed, leaving behind untold wealth. You, destitute.”
Sybil blinked back at him, confused.
“I know you need money. I heard you complaining to Mum about it at Christmas. You wouldn’t be the first Scumbleby after Great Aunt Edna’s fortunes. I know you did it.”
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