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wandered out to the main office to say hi to Cindy, who kept sneaking him candy when they were alone, and to see the wonders of the large outer room with so many people. Much of the massive amount of wealth they earned had been poured back into the company and the firm’s office reflected that. No expense was spared in design and decoration.
    As his mother always reminded him when his bedroom crossed the line between living quarters and pig sty, “A successful individual has two things, the support of his friends and family, and a clean environment in which to conduct his work.” As Will ambled down the hallway, he caught sight of his father near the lobby entrance and took off, delighted at finding him. But as he drew near, it became obvious something wasn’t right. His dad looked upset.
    Startled, Will slowed to a halt and followed his father’s gaze, spying two unknown men disappear around the corner toward the elevator. Try as he might, Will remembered nothing else from this brief memory: not what the men looked like, not even his father’s stuttered, false explanation of who these men were and what they wanted. The only thing he remembered was how upset his dad had looked.
    It was a mixture of fear and anger, mingling with sweat on his brow. William Ricketts, Sr., the mighty head of one of the largest, strongest companies around the globe, was scared by those mystery men. It had shaken Will and that memory stuck with him to this day.
    Other than a few brief flashes, Will didn’t have many memories of his father. Always the workaholic, William Sr. spent long hours at the office and every two or three weeks, he spent a weekend traveling to exotic locations to meet with clients. The mighty Ricketts wealth did little to improve familial relationships, despite the tired clichés he spouted about the value of family. And then one day when Will was sixteen, the phone rang at their house and the voice on the other end delivered the bad news.
    His father had died of an apparent heart attack. He’d been found sitting on a park bench a quarter mile from his office. His mother, a deeply emotional person, went through a bout with depression and also succumbed to a heart attack a few months later, orphaning Will before he turned seventeen. None of this made any sense to Will at the time, but reflecting on it, he recognized that these memories were where it all began. On the outside, everything appeared pristine, but the inner downward spiral that was Will’s life had begun.
    Will had never worked a real job in his life and never wanted for anything, from toys as a child to fancy cars and houses as a man. Everything his father had acquired through a lifetime of hard work had passed to Will. Will didn’t realize at the time, but this included more than vast amounts of money or the company.
    Despite his father’s reputation as a self-made, honest, and upright man, he’d developed a few contacts who worked below the radar, people he’d never admit knowing. And it was these relationships, transferred from dad to son, which brought ruin upon the young man’s life. This unwanted “inheritance” stalked him, and as Will continued to traipse through the deep woods toward town, he silently cursed this pain he never asked for.
     
    ***
    As the door to the back chamber swung open, a slight creek from the un-oiled hinge broke the silence and a man nervously slipped inside the dark room. He approached the desk along the far wall. He’d visited many times, but just now noticed how empty this room truly was.
    No curtains nor carpet, only a fancy desk at one end near the fireplace. The desk was accompanied by a large chair facing the other way, and a wooden cabinet that housed a rarely-used television and books that never left their shelves. The lack of furnishing to absorb sound caused every small noise to reverberate and magnify. Every squeak of his shoes echoed throughout, causing the atmosphere to feel even more unnerving. Not