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

all of the family heirlooms and photo

kept downstairs in that little room in

did they

I look around for any evidence of prying eyes and then tiptoe forward, heading up the

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door, its shabby material clearly at odds with the fine woodworking in

round knob, and give it a twist

a mental note to ask Daniel what’s

down the steps and decide impulsively that if I’m denied knowledge of the storage centers above, I might as well explore those below. Without stopping to let myself think much about it- lest I chicken out – I hurry down the stairs and push through the

across the kitchen, not avoiding eye–contact with anyone, but not initiating it either. Instead, I simply glide through as if this is

white door, heading downstairs. Nobody stops me

noticed me going by.

anymore. My experiences yesterday got rid of those,

Chapter 97

pulses through me.

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for a moment consider whether that’s healthy, really. Honestly, a girl like me

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