I rounded the car and opened Ellie’s door. She slipped her hand into mine as she stood, and for a moment, neither of us moved to drop it.
She smiled shyly and glanced at the house. “It’s beautiful.”
“Needs a little work, but the bones are there. Want to go inside?”
“I’d love to.”
I led her up the front steps. The key stuck in the lock, and I jiggled it until the door creaked open. The inside smelled like cedar as sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains that had probably been white once.
“Wow,” she whispered. “You’re right. It’s got great bones.”
She stepped farther into the house, and I followed behind her. The floorboards creaked as we moved through the front room, past a stone fireplace and walls that bore the faded outlines of what once hung there.
I hadn’t changed much to make it mine yet, only cleaned it up some. For now, it was quiet until the contractors were set to start in a few days.
“You can almost hear the stories in the walls,” she whispered.
I gave a soft laugh. “Yeah, well…hopefully not literally.”
She shot me a grin over her shoulder, and that alone made the whole damn room brighter.
We kept walking past the living room, down the hall, through the little kitchen that looked like it hadn’t seen a proper meal in years. The counters were chipped, the cabinets a faded yellow that might’ve once been cheerful, and the sink was deep enough to bathe a puppy—or a baby.
Ellie stepped back into the living room with worn wood floors and windows overlooking the willow tree and pond.
Her foot landed on a floorboard near the center of the room. It shifted with a loud clack then see-sawed back into place.
She froze. “What the hell?”
Oh, shit.
She crouched, tugging at the board. It gave with a soft creak, revealing a shallow hollow beneath. Ellie peered up at me, eyes wide with a glint of curiosity.
She reached inside.
“Careful!”
“Why?” She laughed, halfway into the floor already.
“There might be... I don’t know. Spiders. Or, like, a raccoon’s nest.”
Or a journal best left untouched.
“I’m not scared of spiders,” she said, grinning.
“Well, I am.”
She pulled out the leather-bound book from inside the hole. “Have you ever seen this before?”
I shook my head. “Yeah, I found it when I was checking out the place. Gave me the heebie jeebies, so I put it right back.”
Her fingers brushed the edge of the book. The leather cover was cracked. No title., just a single initial pressed into the front.
“L?” she said. “Who’s L?”
“No clue.” I scratched the back of my neck.
She opened it. Pages full of looping handwriting filled the inside.
