“What’s weird?”Jackasked as he closed the first-aid kit and sidled up to me.
“The floorboardItripped over . . .”Icocked my head to get a better look at it. “You’rethe fire expert.Whywould it only be burned at the corner?Andit’s not on the edge of the floor against the wall.”
“Huh.”Jackassumed the same stanceIwas in. “Inever would have noticed that.Butyou’re right.”
“Maybe someone dropped a cigarette or something?”Iguessed.
Jack knelt by the floorboard and smoothed his hand over it. “Close, but not quite.It’snot a burn.It’sa brand.”
I let out a groan asIjoined him back on the floor.Sureenough, it wasn’t a natural char mark.Acircle with a curly letterAwas seared into the corner of the floorboard.Thedesign was scuffed and blurred, but the closerIlooked, the clearer it became.
“You got a hammer up here?”Jackasked as he gave the nail poking out of the board a test wiggle to see if it was loose enough to pull out by hand.Itwasn’t.
“Tool bag’s in the kitchen,”Isaid asIsmoothed my finger over the ridges of the brand.
Jack returned with a hammer and a displeased look. “PrettysureFisher-Pricemakes sturdier tools,” he said as he wielded the purple-handled hammer and used the claw to pull the nail out.
“If you’re judging my tools, you can leave,”Iclipped. “Itgets the job done.”
He lifted the purple hammer that was smaller than my hand. “You’replanning on renovating an entire house with this?”Hejust shook his head. “I’vegot shit you can use over at my place.I’llshow you where it is when you have time.Justput it back when you’re done with it.”
Jack pressed down on the floor to replace the nail with a new one.Butbefore he could tack the board down, it slid.Hegave me a quick glance, asking for permission before lifting it easily.
“What the hell?” was quickly becoming my new catchphrase.
“You know, you always hear about people storing things in loose floorboards in movies and books, butInever thought it was actually a thing,”Jacksaid as we peered into the small cubby.
“I don’t think it’s supposed to be a thing.Where’sthe subfloor?”Iglanced around. “AmIgoing to fall through the house just by walking around?”
Jack cracked a smile. “Youjust found a hidden compartment in the floor of your deceased great-aunt's house, and you’re worried about falling through the floor?”
I blinked. “Onething is a surprise.Theother is a concern.Wetackle concerns before surprises.”
He reached into the cubby and pulled out a folded piece of paper that was weathered and yellowed with age. “Howabout two surprises?”
“What is that?”
“Your house.Yoursuper mysterious note stuffed in the floor to open,”Jacksaid as he handed it over.
Well, there was no time like the present.
Carefully,Ipeeled open the note.Mybreath caught as my eyes fell on flawless swooping script dotted with drippings of ink.
He never came for me.
I waited and waited, pacing the shore and cursing the rocks as the tides came and went like a perfectly timed waltz.
But he never showed.
The rain spat curses at me, mocking me for holding on to hope that things could be different.ThatEliaswould appear and whisk me away on his boat to a life far, far away from this madness.Thathe would take me away from the fate that had been written in the stars since beforeIhad arrived inNewBernto the sound of wedding bells.
ButTryonPalaceis no castle.It’sa prison.Themarriage ceremony to the manI’veonly met a few times is my execution.
They tell me it’s for the best, but whose best?It’scertainly not best for me to marry a manIdon’t love—one who most certainly doesn’t love me—when the oneIdo is somewhere out there in the blue beyond.
I’d rather face the hangman than accept the golden noose decorated with diamonds that was tightening around my finger.
What ifEliaswas still coming for me, just as he promised?
