John lounged carelessly on the leather sofa, a glass of whiskey in hand. Paul stood by the window, his eyes narrowing as he observed the shadows cast by the setting sun. Jesica, dressed in her characteristic goth attire, sat silently, her demeanor calm and composed.
"Are you a magician? Because whenever I look at you, everyone else disappears," John quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Enough with your nonsense, John. We have more important matters to discuss," Paul snapped, his stature seeming to shrink slightly.
"Father's wishes are clear," Jesica interjected softly, her eyes scanning the document with precision.
John leaned forward, his expression a mix of disdain and amusement. "You think you deserve it, Paul? You can barely keep yourself in one piece," he taunted.
Paul's face twisted with irritation, his form shrinking further. "At least I have ambition, unlike you, wasting away in bars," he retorted coldly.
Jesica watched the exchange, her mind racing with the implications of their father's legacy.
Paul smirked triumphantly as he held the will. "It's mine now, and there's nothing you can do," he squeaked, his voice unnaturally high as his body diminished into a tiny creature.
Jesica watched in horror, yet her heart softened at the sight of the small, frantic mouse.
Jesica gently picked up Paul, now fully a mouse, holding him tenderly. "You may have taken the will, but you've lost yourself," she whispered.
She looked at John, who had fallen into a brooding silence, and sighed. "I'll take care of you, Paul. We still have a family to uphold," she resolved.
Jesica gazed out the window, the pale moonlight casting a ghostly sheen over the landscape. Her heart ached with the burden of responsibility, yet she felt a strange sense of peace.
"Father's legacy will not be in vain," she vowed, determined to honor the memory of the man who had left them torn yet tied together in an unbreakable bond.
