The manor might scream money, but my mother’s style has always leaned more tacky than elegant. Alexis deserves better than that. Like a sprawling estate with gardens filled with roses and more libraries than one could ever need, a place straight out of a Jane Austen novel.
“It’s only dull if you make it so, Blakey-bear,” She laughs. “Though I suppose it’s sweet you think so highly of me. Tell me, Blake, do you think about proposing to me often?”
“Only once, and I plan to do it right.” I shoot her a wink, and I just catch her blushing smile before she looks away.
The highway makes way for quiet suburban roads which turn into the dull gated community of my youth. When we pull into the driveway I’m surprised the gate is wide open—my mother would never leave it open for anyone, even me. Worse still, there are no cars anywhere, nor lights on in the house, despite the darkness of winter. Something is wrong—I’m just not sure what.
I take Alexis’ hand as she gets out of the car, not only because I want to, but so I can try and keep her safe if anyone’s hiding inside. We go around the back, where the grass is higher than I’ve ever seen it and the dirty smudges on the windows only add to the dread curling in my stomach. How long has this place gone without seeing a soul? And why haven’t I heard a peep about it?
“Get behind me,” I say, and reach out my arm to stop Alexis from potentially ignoring me. I’m not sure if anyone is inside, but if trouble arises I’d rather they have to go through me.
Thankfully, she doesn’t challenge it. When we step into the house, the checkered tile under our feet dusty and covered in glass from a broken window pane, she is right on my heels but makes no move to wander off alone.
“Maria?” I call.Silence. “Mom? Anyone?”
I don’t expect my mother to be around; she’s usually hiding out someplace warm this time of year. But this place is never,everempty, the silence unnerves me like no other.
“Does it always look like…this?” Alexis asks quietly, and I tighten my grip on her hand.
“Never. Something isn’t right.” My mother is probably off on a cruise or business trip or holiday, but she has a half dozen staff members who keep this place looking like a damn palace. If they left…well, I wouldn’t blame them. No doubt my mother took things a step too far, even for her. But those people practically raised me. They wouldn’t quit without saying goodbye to me. “Let’s just grab what we came for and go.”
I lead her up the stairs and down the hall to the dreary beige horror that is my childhood bedroom. Color is my mother’s mortal enemy, so the entire house is practically all white. Beige, believe it or not, was pushing it. Thankfully, it’s been left virtually untouched since the day I left for college, so I know just where to find it.
The oldest shoe box in my closet, hidden in the back of the top shelf. Mice have gnawed some holes in the sides, but it seems they left the content untouched. I take the satin pouch from its hiding place and stuff it into my coat pocket where it’s safe.
“Do you hear that?”
I jump at the sound of Alexis’ voice. I’d been too distracted digging through my past that I hadn’t noticed her slipping away from my collection of trophies and knick-knacks to stand right behind me. I pause, listening intently, but I don’t hear a thing.
“If you want to go explore the house you can just ask, Sunshine. You don’t have to pull the horror movie excuse.”
Alexis rolls her eyes. “I’m not making an excuse, nor am I making it up—I still hear it. It’s this high pitch, like…like the whining of a dog, almost.”
A dog. The word stops me right in my tracks. She cannot possibly have left him here…though, with my mother, I shouldn’t be surprised.
Alexis takes my hand and drags me into the hallway before stopping to look around.
“It’s muffled,” she says. “Like something is blocking the sound. But it’s also kind of everywhere?”
“The ventilation shafts,” I say slowly, and Alexis nods like that’s exactly what she meant. “The blocking, could that be a door?”
She shrugs. It doesn’t matter, anyway. If he’s here, there’s only one place he could have gone—I know exactly where he is.
Once we’re back in the grand foyer, we take the shortcut through the lounge to end up in the kitchen, the old doors creaking and heavy even for me. No wonder he can’t get out—I can barely get through them myself.
The kitchen is a battlefield of flour, sugar, and heaps of unidentifiable foods sprawled out over every surface. Some of it is rotting, molding, or otherwise disgusting, and breathing in the stench almost makes me retch. But it’s the door to the basement that catches my eye. Fallen off its hinges, hanging on by a single screw, positioned in such a way it can’t be moved aside.
And that’s when I hear him.
A weak, pain-filled whine, begging anyone to listen and help.My poor boy.
“Lucky!” I tear the door off the frame and glance down the steep steps, but it’s too dark to see a thing. As if she can read mymind, Alexis holds up her phone with the flashlight turned on, illuminating the stairs. I kiss her cheek in thanks.
It’s clear she’s not leaving my side, so as I make my way down the narrow steps I hold her hand to keep her from losing her balance. Her hand, warm and reassuring in mine, is the only thing keeping me from freaking out as my home becomes more unrecognizable with every step.
Our feet touch solid ground again and Alexis drags the light from her flashlight across the room. In the far corner, behind a barrel of whatever, I spot a familiar wagging tail.
“Lucky? Come, boy, come here.” I pat my thighs, but he doesn’t budge.
