“I figured. Nice to meet you, Elijah.”
“Do you like my paintings?”
“These are yours?” She notices the smudges on his hands, the fingernails stained near-black. “I do. I saw them back at the motel. They’re very good.”
Elijah beams like a golden retriever with a newly fetched stick. “Thank you. Do you know where Caleb went?”
“Um, he said Kaylee Brighton’s been spotted at a drugstore?”
“Uncle Isaac called him in, huh? Okay, we’ve got some time. Want a tour of the house?”
Hope flares behind Sarah’s sternum. Elijah seems eager to please, and most importantly, happy to bend Caleb’s rules. “I’m actually looking for a phone charger. Do you have one?”
“I don’t have a cell. I can help you find Caleb’s, though.”
“Great. I checked downstairs already, but not upstairs. I didn’t want to nose around the bedrooms.”
She fishes her mask out of her pocket and slips it back on. Elijah steps out of the doorway and lets her through. He slides the door behind her, shutting off the sound of struggling plastic.
He lopes away from the sunroom, and she has to jog to catch up. “Did you see our parlor?” he says.
She assumes he means the front room. “Yes, it’s very nice,” she says automatically.
“Don’t lie, it’s hideous. Grandma put down the plastic before I was born. Dad never took it off, and Caleb never got around to it either.”
“It’s very practical.” A preventative measure, to deter future generations from leaving their mark. No new ghosts allowed in Sweetside Manor, at least in that room.
“You’re a good liar,” he says cheerfully, and Sarah’s not sure if she should be offended or pleased. “Dad shot that buck,” he adds, as they pass the parlor’s doorway.
“Do you hunt too?” Her hands tighten around the mug with the effort to keep her tone affable. It’s one thing to be trapped with two strange men; it’s another to be trapped with two strange men and a gun.
“Gosh, no.” Elijah looks shocked she’d even ask. He leads her up the stairs, each step crying a protest. “I found those antlers, though. It’s interesting what you can find in the woods. Caleb shot a rabbit once when we were kids, but cried after. Dad wasn’t happy about that.”
Sarah likes the Vass brothers a little more and their father a little less. Elijah shows her a succession of cold, empty rooms, lined with faded wallpaper and carpet, and a steep back staircase he explains was meant for servants. In the manor’s heyday, Sarah probably would’ve only been allowed on those stairs. “Grandma and Grandpa lived in that room,” he says, pointing to a large room at the end of the hall, “but the rest have been empty for a while. I think Dad was hoping Caleb would get married and fill them with kids.”
“Caleb never married?” Sarah asks, trying to sound casual.
“He’s had a few girlfriends, but nothing serious. Why, do you like him?”
She’s glad she put on her mask so he can’t see her burning cheeks. “He’s been very kind.”
“Caleb’s always been kind. But—” His mouth thins, and he looks like his mother again. “I’d be careful around him. He hasn’t been the same since Dad died.”
The flush across Sarah’s skin chills. Elijah adds, “Everyone in this house ends up dying. Grandma, Grandpa, Mom. I was too young, but Caleb would’ve had to watch them die. Have you ever watched anyone die?”
He cocks his head at her, genuinely curious. She pushes her mask down and takes a sip of coffee to wet her suddenly dry throat. “Not that I know of,” she says jokingly. She’s a good liar, after all.
“The charger must be in Caleb’s room. Come on.” Elijah spins on his heel, and she follows, dizzy from the sudden change in conversation. It’s probably been a long time since he’s talked to anyone other than Caleb.
Elijah barges through the door to his brother’s room. Sarah hangs back in the doorway. To her relief, there’s nothing embarrassing on display. Clothes slung over a chair. A heavy dresser with brass drawer pulls. A clock radio and a paperback copy ofOf Mice and Menon a nightstand. Navy blue sheets neatly smoothed over the queen-sized bed. The effect is anonymous and neutral, like out of a furniture catalog. No photographs or artwork, but who needs them when the open curtains frame the wild landscape outside?
“He sometimes charges his phone there,” Elijah says, motioning to the nightstand. He opens the drawer and rummages around. “Aha!”
He holds up a cable. Sarah’s stomach sinks. “It’s the wrong kind. I’ve got a—an older model.” She thinks regretfully of her old phone, sitting at the bottom of the highway rest stop trash can, completely wiped and the SIM card flushed down the toilet at home. She didn’t want to leave it behind at the apartment. It could be construed as evidence of premeditation, when she’d meant to slip out without Ben’s notice.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help.” He tucks the cable back into the drawer, his mouth drooping.
“It’s all right, I appreciate you looking. You and Caleb have already done so much for me.”
