Everything was the same as she remembered. The dark wood floors. The large staircase. The chandelier in the foyer.
Flashes of her as a little girl rushed through her mind. Running through these halls with her friend...
Paul.
“What happened to Paul?” Mia suddenly asked William, the question bursting out before she could stop it.
William’s eyes darkened. His face aged a decade in seconds.
“He died fourteen years ago. His son Brian was only two,” William said quietly. “He was also a doctor, and so was his wife. They were doing Doctors Without Borders somewhere in Africa and contracted a rare disease…”
He didn’t need to continue, as Mia understood and swallowed the lump in her throat.
A knock came at the door, distracting her.
Before anyone could react, Lila turned and pulled it open.
Brian stood there, looking uncertain.
“Hi,” he greeted them. “Hope it’s okay that I’m here?”
“Of course,” Milly was the first to answer. “I was going to come get you.” She stepped back to let him in. “Everyone who knows about this, we need to keep you all together.”
William ushered them further into the house and began showing them to their rooms.
As they climbed the stairs, Lila spoke up. “So you don’t have any renovations?”
Her voice was accusatory as she pinned William with a glare.
“No,” William admitted, looking sheepish. “Sorry, but I was protecting your mother.”
“It’s okay, William,” Mia told him. “I understand.”
She glanced around the room he’d brought Lila to, and her breath caught.
“This was my room.”
“Yes,” William said, nodding.
“Mom, look,” Lila squealed.
Mia turned to see Lila at the bookshelf.
“Uncle William has Gran’s books on David Dare.”
Mia looked at William, amazed. “I thought Mom only published one copy for me, which I passed on to Lila.”
William smiled. “I insisted she send me a copy of each of them.”
Lila was already flipping through them, her brow furrowing. Mia could all but see her daughter’s brilliant mind ticking over.
“This is your house, Uncle William,” Lila said suddenly. She turned the cartoon picture toward him. “This is my favorite of all the stories. David Dare and the Secret in the Basement.”
“Yes,” William acknowledged. “Your grandmother was a brilliant surgeon, writer, and illustrator.”
“Uh-huh,” Lila said, engrossed in the book.
“Come, let me take you to your room,” William said to Mia. “I’ve put you in the one beside Lila’s, and Eve is in the guest suite down the hall.” He swallowed, his eyes darkening. “Is there any word about her or David?”
