I walk him to the door, eager to check out my new house.
Ford pauses on the porch. “Couple of things—the faucet in the master bath has backwards hot and cold.”
“Good to know, thanks.” I force a smile. I’m so ready to be alone.
“The other thing is that the neighbors are probably coming by later. I told them you’re moving in today and they’re eager to meet you.”
“Fabulous, thanks for the heads-up.” I am intrigued, but definitely not ready for company. Hopefully the neighbors won’t expect a long visit.
Walking down the steps, Ford turns to look over his shoulder. “And don’t worry about Derick and Crane—they’ll come around. Vivienne’s will was generous to all of us.”
I’ve already thanked him a dozen times, so I give him a little wave while he gets in his SUV and drives off.
Turning, I face the house once more. Now I can explore on my own, without Ford following me around, coloring my first impression.
The ground floor boasts two sitting rooms. The one at the front is probably what people used to call a “parlor.” A place for entertaining casual guests, I think. The one at the back is cozy. The walls are a soft gray, and there’s art on the walls in tones of lavender and blue. There’s a half-bath, probably also for guests. The kitchen is gorgeous—an art deco-stylized tile floor, new appliances, and a large window overlooking an expanse of green lawn dotted with flower beds. It feels peaceful, and even though the house is large, it’s still cozy.
I pat the countertop. “I think I’m going to like it here.”
Next, I explore the two upper floors. Lots of bedrooms. I find a library full of old books. My great-aunt’s choices in literature skewed toward nonfiction and the classics.
On the second floor, I find what is probably the master bedroom. It’s a corner room and has an en-suite bathroom. Sunlight streams in through the windows, illuminating the biggest bed I’ve ever laid eyes on. How far I’ve come from the lumpy twin at my apartment.
There’s a note on top. Clean sheets. I replaced them for you. —Ford
Well, that was friendly of him. I tug down the gray bedspread, just wanting to double-check. Everything looks fresh and tidy. His brothers wouldn’t have extended the same kindness. I wonder how it was for him, growing up in a house with those two assholes.
I’m beginning to think Ford’s childhood was as depressing as mine.
Unsurprisingly, the fridge downstairs was empty. Easily remedied. I make a trip to the grocery store. When I come back, I find a bottle of wine sitting on the front step with a note. Welcome to the neighborhood! :) The Kavlans
They must be the neighbors Ford mentioned earlier. I’ll have to figure out which house is theirs so I can send a thank-you note. I’m also curious about how they got through the gate—do they have the code? Then why even have the gate, if everyone can get past it? I don’t understand the etiquette or protocols of living in a place like this.
The sun is setting behind the back yard, and my stomach rumbles with hunger after my long day. I open the bottle of wine, grab my newly-purchased baguette and brie, and settle down in front of my laptop. I debate my earlier idea of re-watching Academy of Ghosts. But ultimately I choose my all-time favorite series, Flesh and Teeth. The opening credits pan out over a sprawling monastery as the living dead, hungry for human flesh, march forward. It’s up to a morally gray priest, who is actually an outlaw in disguise, to save first the monastery, and then the village behind it.
I love it so much. The episode continues with our outlaw instructing the monks to reinforce the walls of the monastery with wood ripped from their sacred chapel. A short, slender monk has a hard time lifting a heavy board, so the outlaw comes to the monk’s rescue.
Only then do we realize that this monk is no man, but a young woman in disguise, hiding from her abusive husband. The outlaw still doesn’t know.
I grin at the delicious drama that will ensue. I’ve seen it before, and I can’t wait to see it again. But maybe tomorrow, because my eyelids are heavy.
Belly full, mind pleasantly warm and slightly numb, I settle back into the couch and fall asleep to a symphony of flesh-hungry zombie groans.
A noise wakes me. I don’t know how much time has passed, but my laptop screen is dark and so is the living room. Did I turn off the lamp? I can’t remember. A thump sounds from outside. Maybe an animal. I bet there’s more wildlife in this area, with the expansive grounds. I take a deep breath and force myself to relax—it’s my first night and this place will take some getting used to.
But then I hear another, more sinister, sound—breaking glass.
11
DAMIANO
My phone blares with Nove’s emergency tone. I sit up and answer, immediately awake despite the darkness filling my bedroom.
“Break-in at your girl’s place, boss,” Buster says. “We’re going in.”
“Stay on comms. What’s the address?” I’ve made it a point not to know. I want her protected—I do not wish to stalk her or invade her privacy.
“334 Oak Street.”
