“Love you too.” I exhale on a sigh.
CHAPTER 6
“Mom!”Lark’s voice startles me, and I screech out a sound no lady should make. At least I’m not a lady. “You have to see this school!”
“Well, if we are staying here for a while, we might as well.” My body creaks as I push up to my feet to catch up with a bouncing Lark. “Shouldn’t school be in session today?” I brush off the dirt and pocket my phone, then toss my coffee cup in the trash as Lark opens up the doors to the schoolhouse.
Now when I think of a schoolhouse, I think of run-down little towns with a one-room house and a bunch of desks, then each of those desks is a different grade. What I find is not at all what I dreamed up. The term ‘schoolhouse’ doesn’t apply to this beautiful building.
It’s red brick on the outside, with an angular set of steps that lead inside to a marble tiled floor. To the left is a dark office, and to the right is a staircase that goes up and down. Ahead is a long stretch of hallway that’s lined with classrooms on either side.
Where I grew up, our city had a preschool, a kindergarten, a middle school, and then a high school. There was a building for each, and multiple classrooms for each as well.
Although Arlo called this a schoolhouse, and it doesn’t quite fit that definition, it isn’t a typical school either.
On each of the doors is a little flag with an apple and a worm on a yellow background.
“This floor is the elementary school!” Larks spins around, grabbing my hand and tugging me down the hall.
“How many floors are there?” Pulling away from her, I peer up at the staircase, then down. There is a lot more to this building than meets the eye. Sure, it looked big from the outside, but being in here now, it seems so much larger than it should.
“Four.”
“Really? How?”
“You must be Wren and Lark.” The musical voice drifts to us before a slender woman steps out of a door at the other end of the hallway. “My mother told me I might find you here.”
She’s nothing at all like her brother and her mother. She’s tall and slender, and she’s wearing a simple gray pantsuit with a teal silk blouse and matching teal shoes. Her dark hair sits on top of her head, pinned out of the way, while her pink lips stretch across her face in a warm smile.
It seems every single member of that family has that small-town warmth that radiates from them.
Drying my sweaty palms, I reach out for her hand, and she doesn’t even bat an eyelash. I like this woman already.
“Wren Finnley.” I jerk my head down to my little mini me. “And you are correct in guessing this is Lark.”
“Welcome.” Her smile makes her face light up from within as she glances at Lark. “I’m Seraphina Larson.”
Ah, so that’s their last name. I’m a terrible person for not asking first then running an FBI check on this entire town. Someday I’ll learn the error of my ways.
“Hello, Ms. Larson. Are you teaching eighth grade?” Lark practically bounces from foot to foot.
“Absolutely, let’s take a tour first, shall we?” Seraphina reaches for Lark’s hand, and my little traitor grabs it without hesitation, before leading her down the hall. “You were right, Lark—I dedicated this entire floor to elementary school grades. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now this is a tiny school, so we don’t have a gym aside from the courts outside and the track across the street.”
“I don’t play any sports.” Lark shudders a bit at the announcement as though she couldn’t possibly fathom the thought of playing a sport. Same, girl, same.
“Not a problem, though we encourage active participation.” Seraphina leads the way through a set of double doors that hold yet another staircase and an old-school elevator.
“What was this building?” I ask as the elevator door squeaks open.
“A sanitorium,” Seraphina answers, her tone implying it’s not that big of a deal.
It is. It’s a very big deal. It’s creepy and I love it. I glance down at Lark, reading her face and the interest there.
“Shall we?” Seraphina questions, holding the door open for us. We enter hesitantly, since this thing looks like it’s about to fall apart. “It’s safe, I assure you. Arlo inspects it monthly.”
That does not give me the warm fuzzies, but we still step inside of it.
“The students or the faculty rarely use this elevator, but I always bring parents on here the first time they visit. It’s a bit of a tradition.” She beams. “You’ll find that Silent Springs has a quirky history.”
