Chapter 97

I look both ways, realizing that I actually know very little about

this house. There’s a linen closet next to my room, and then on

the other side there’s Daniel’s room. Beyond that is the room that Fiona used, and then some other guest rooms.

I blink, realizing that–really–I have no idea where Kent sleeps.

A smirk crosses my face as I wonder if he hangs from the rafters

like some kind of evil bat. That would suit his personality, for sure.

Thinking of the rafters, though, my eyes travel up the next set of stairs, which wind slowly upwards beyond my room.

I had asked Fiona, once, where they went, but she had dismissed

the question off–hand, telling me there was nothing up there but a whole bunch of junk in storage.

I consider this for a second, mulling over her words. What kind of

Especially if all of the family heirlooms and photo

in that little room

did they keep upstairs?

curious, and feeling bold – and frankly, bored I look around for any evidence of prying eyes and then

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there’s just an ugly brown plywood door, its shabby material clearly at odds with the fine woodworking in the rest of

grasping the round knob, and give it a twist

note to ask Daniel what’s up there and, also, to look up some basic

denied knowledge of the storage centers above, I might as well explore those below. Without stopping to let myself think

as if

the little white door, heading downstairs. Nobody stops

me

this place doesn’t hold any terror for me anymore. My experiences yesterday got rid of those, replacing them with…well, with a little tremor

Chapter 97

pulses through me.

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that’s healthy, really. Honestly, a girl like

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