Don't Tell a Soul

by Kirsten Miller

  I turned my eyes to the sky. A few minutes earlier, the sun had been shining. Now I saw nothing but clouds. I felt like I was stuck in a game on survival mode. The world kept changing without warning, and all I could do was race to adapt.

  Sam began lumbering down the sidewalk, but I wasn’t ready to follow. “Hey!” I called out. “How do you know those two? Are they friends of yours?”

  I could tell he had no idea how scared I’d been. Mike and Brian hadn’t had weapons. They weren’t wearing masks. A six-foot-three quarterback like Sam couldn’t understand how two guys his size might intimidate someone like me. I wondered when he’d last had to fear for his safety. He probably had no idea that some girls fear for theirs every day.

  “I wouldn’t call us buddies, but I’ve known them since preschool. They were both on the football team when I was captain. They’re regular guys.”

  Regular guys who chase girls they don’t know down sidewalks. “They told me to be careful.”

  A car driving by slowed down as it passed us. The passenger was so bundled up, I couldn’t tell if it was a male or a female. Sam raised a hand in silent greeting, and the person did the same. Then Sam looked back down at me. “If I remember correctly, I once told you to be careful, too. I heard you were at Nolan’s last night. I guess you didn’t listen.”

  I was on the verge of asking Sam who’d attacked Nolan’s house, when I heard the tinkle of the hardware store bell, and a group of men emerged, all wearing down coats in dark colors.

  That’s when it hit me. It really could have been anyone.

  “So are we going?” Sam asked.

  “Why didn’t you come back to the storeroom to check on me yesterday like you promised?” I asked.

  “I did come back,” he said. “Just as you were climbing into Nolan’s car. Don’t worry. I won’t stop looking out for you, even if you have terrible taste in men. Now if you don’t mind, these bags are getting heavy.”

  I could see the contents of Sam’s plastic hardware bags. Inside one was a large screwdriver.

  “Here, let me take that for you,” I offered, knowing a screwdriver would make a suitable weapon in a pinch.

  I relaxed a little when he handed me the bag, but the feeling didn’t last long. Once we were on the road to the manor, the two of us were alone. The word “alone” had a different meaning in Louth. There weren’t any cars passing by, and the forest on either side of us was dense enough to conceal any crime. All sound seemed muffled, as if I’d crammed cotton into my ears. If something happened, there would be no hope of rescue.

  It started to snow when we were halfway up the hill. The first lazy flakes floated down through the tree branches and settled in my hair. I’d been in such a hurry to leave the house that morning that I’d forgotten to grab a hat. For a while, it was easy to shake them off. Then the wind picked up and the flakes fell faster. I could feel them accumulating along the part in my hair.

  “Here.” Sam took off his wool hat and held it out to me as he pulled up the hood of his coat. It was the first thing either of us had said. It was enough to convince me that he wasn’t planning to kill me. At least not right away.

  “Thanks,” I told him.

  “I know you’ve got a phone,” Sam observed. “Don’t you use it to check the weather?”

  “I didn’t realize I’d moved to the arctic circle,” I replied. “Does the snow ever get a chance to melt around here?” I gestured at the waist-high snowbanks along the road that were beginning to grow once again.

  “Not this year, I guess,” Sam said. “By the end of March the snowbanks will be taller than both of us. They’ll find some interesting stuff when it all starts to thaw.”

  “Like what?” I wondered what he knew.

  I saw him glance at me out of the corner of his eye.

  “Dropped phones. Dead deer. Lost dogs. Things like that.”

  “People?” I asked pointedly.

  “Once,” he replied. “Did Maisie tell you about April Hughes?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I guess you heard the story when you were growing up?”

  Sam snorted. “At least a thousand times. Every time I went camping, someone would claim they’d seen her ghost wandering through the forest in her nightgown. Guys liked to make jokes about it. Every time you left the tent to take a leak, some douchebag would say you’d—” He grimaced at the memory. “Never mind.”

  “What?” I asked. “Tell me.”

  “They’d say you’d gone for a quickie with April Hughes.”

  I felt him glance over at me. I didn’t look back. I turned my head toward the woods on the opposite side of the road. A girl had died out there all alone. She was wearing a single slipper when they found her—along with a nightgown and a terry-cloth robe. I remembered the police photo that Lark had pasted into her scrapbook. In her final moments, April had crawled under the boughs of a spruce tree and curled herself into a ball. Just imagining the terror she must have felt made me want to cry.

  “Sorry,” Sam said softly.

  “Why do people around here think April left the manor in the middle of the night?”

  Sam seemed relieved that I was still speaking to him. “There are plenty of theories. The authorities were convinced she was suffering from some kind of mental disorder that had gone undiagnosed. I don’t know how many people around here ever bought into that one. Most think April either arranged to meet someone in the woods—or ran away from the ghost of Grace Louth. Then there’s my mom’s theory.”

  “Your mom has her own theory?” For some reason, that surprised me.

  “She met April the night she died. Believe it or not, they were around the same age in 1986.”

  I did the math in my head. He was right. I tried picturing April as a middle-aged woman, but all I could see was Maisie’s mom. “How did they meet?”

  “Back then rich New York types used to rent the manor for events, and people from Louth would be hired as staff. April Hughes and her parents were here for a weeklong New Year’s Eve celebration. My mom’s family had always worked at the manor, so she got a job as one of the servers.”

  “She talked to April the night she disappeared?”

  “Yeah,” Sam said. “It’s a weird story. On New Year’s Eve, my mom’s boss sent her downstairs to get some supplies, and she found April half-frozen in the cold storage locker.”

  That got my attention. “How’d she get in there?”

  “April claimed she’d been exploring the manor and had taken a peek in the locker. She said she didn’t know how to open the door from the inside and got trapped when it closed behind her. My mom didn’t believe it. She thought April had been hiding.”

  “From who—or from what?” I asked.

  “April wouldn’t say, and Mom never found out,” Sam said. “After April disappeared, Mom told the police what had happened, and they thought it was proof that April was suffering from some kind of illness. But Mom didn’t think April was delusional, and she still doesn’t. She thinks she was scared. April left a note—”

  “The one that said someone’s at the door.”

  “Yeah. Mom thought the note looked like it had been ripped out of some kind of diary. But nobody ever found the rest.”

  We crested the hill and saw the manor’s lawn stretched before us, perfectly white and pristine. The snow was falling furiously, and I was glad to see the topiary monstrosities disappearing again, under the cover of snow. I stopped for a moment to gaze at the manor.

  “If the house isn’t cursed, how do you explain all the terrible things that have happened here?” I said, not really expecting an answer.

  “Lark once told me the manor is the key, not the cause,” Sam said.

  “What do you think she meant?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. She used to talk in riddles sometimes. But I don�
�t care what people say. Lark was perfectly sane. She knew something. She just didn’t get a chance to tell anyone before the fire.”

  That was exactly what I suspected as well. “Any idea what it was she knew?”

  He shook his head. “I wish I knew.”

  We stood side by side, watching the manor as if it might show us its secrets. But it sat there sullenly, wrapped in its blanket of ice and ivy.

  “I tried to call Lark today,” I told Sam.

  “They didn’t let you through, did they? We’ve tried, too.”

  “The woman on the phone told me I’d have to speak to Lark’s dad. I thought maybe I’d try.”

  “Ruben’s not talking to anyone these days,” Sam said. “If you try to go see him, there’s a good chance you’ll get shot.”

  “So he really is—?” I didn’t want to say it.

  “Ruben did two tours in Afghanistan as a medic. Lark said he saw things no one should ever have to see. Now his ex-wife is dead and his daughter is ill. I’d say he has every reason to be angry. Life hasn’t been kind to him.”

  I was impressed by Sam’s compassion. Most people show either pity or fear when they talk about people like me or Ruben. Few ever try to understand.

  “Sam, there’s something I need to ask you about. The other day when we were out here, I know I saw someone standing on the balcony of my room. It was a girl in white, and I’ve seen her since. Do you think it could have been Grace Louth?”

  “No,” he said firmly. “I don’t. I don’t believe in ghosts, Bram.”

  “Lark told people she heard things at night. Do you think she was lying?” I pressed.

  Sam shook his head. “No. I just don’t believe she heard a ghost.”

  I was getting frustrated. I couldn’t understand why he was being so stubborn.

  “Well, thanks for walking with me this far,” I said, done with the pointless conversation. I handed him the bag I’d been carrying for him. I hated myself for feeling so disappointed. “I’ll be fine on my own from here,” I said, and left Sam standing at the top of the hill.

  I let myself into the manor and snuck up the stairs toward the rose room. I made it as far as the landing of the grand staircase before James called out from behind me.

  “There you are! Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you this morning.”

  I turned to face him, and I was surprised by how bad he looked. There were stains on his shirt, and his fly was half-down. Everything about him looked rumpled. Either he’d slept in his clothing or he hadn’t slept at all.

  “I went down to the village to get a coffee,” I answered vaguely.

  “What’s in the bag?” James asked as he started up the stairs toward me. “Doesn’t look like coffee.”

  I glanced down at the bag in my hand. The white plastic was so thin, it was almost translucent. He could see exactly what was inside it.

  “Bram!” a voice called out from the front door. “Sorry! I must have handed you the wrong shopping bag.”

  Sam was standing below in the entryway, holding up a bag filled with lemons.

  “You two were together just now?” James’s gaze passed back and forth between us.

  “We bumped into each other outside the hardware store,” Sam said as he bounded up the stairs past my uncle. “Bram kept me company while we walked up the hill.”

  “Those for the manor?” James asked casually, nodding at the carbon monoxide detectors in the bag I’d been carrying.

  “Nope, for our farm,” Sam answered before I could open my mouth to speak. “Mom got a new generator after the last big storm, but she’s worried it might leak gas into the house.”

  “And I had no idea you were such a fan of lemons,” James told me.

  “I mix the juice with salt and make a scrub for my face,” I said, relieved that a lie had come so easily. “The dry heat in the manor has been murder on my skin.”

  James didn’t look like he bought it, but what could he say?

  “See you later, Bram,” Sam announced, and headed back to the door. “Goodbye, Mr. Howland.”

  James didn’t say a word. He kept his eyes on me the whole time.

  “You certainly seem to have enchanted the young men of Louth,” he said once the door had closed behind Sam.

  I felt myself blushing against my will. “Excuse me?” I asked. I didn’t know how else to respond.

  “I’m sorry,” James said. “I didn’t intend to embarrass you. I’m just surprised that you’re already putting yourself out there.”

  I stared at him blankly. I couldn’t understand what he was doing.

  “I heard you witnessed some trouble at the Turner house last night,” he said. “You weren’t injured, were you?”

  “No,” I confirmed.

  “I thought you told me you weren’t interested in Nolan.”

  “I’m not,” I said. I was getting really tired of talking about Nolan.

  “So how did you end up spending the evening with him?”

  Where was this bizarre interrogation coming from? “He knocked on the door around seven o’clock and said you and his dad were out of town,” I said. “Miriam wasn’t here, and he invited me over for dinner.”

  “He cooks, does he?” I realized that I couldn’t tell if my uncle was smiling or sneering. It was difficult to believe I was talking to the same person I’d known when I was little. That Uncle James had always been laughing. He’d acted like he didn’t have a care in the world, and when I was with him, my cares vanished, too.

  But that James had disappeared long ago. The expectations of others had been too much to bear, and business burdens had squeezed the life right out of him. The man left behind was hard and bitter.

  “I believe someone else did the cooking,” I told him evenly.

  “Well, you should probably let Miriam make your dinners from now on,” James said. “I hear the Turners received some unexpected guests last night. I didn’t mention the incident when I spoke to your mother earlier, but I’m not sure I can neglect to inform her the next time something happens.”

  I suddenly felt cold. “You spoke with my mother?” Had she told him I’d asked about the gas leak?

  “Yes. She called shortly after you ran out of the manor this morning. She wanted me to check my medicine cabinets. She said you’d been talking nonsense on the phone, and she was worried you may have suffered a relapse. I informed her that all medications are currently under lock and key and I’d seen no evidence of drug use on your part.”

  “Thank you,” I said cautiously.

  “You are clean, are you not?” he asked.

  “I am,” I assured him.

  “There’s no need to schedule a blood test, is there?”

  “No.” I could feel myself shrinking.

  “Good,” James replied with a smile. “Because if your mother suspects you’re using drugs again, do you know what she’ll do?”

  I assumed the question was rhetorical, so I didn’t answer.

  “What will she do, Bram?” James pressed.

  “She’ll send me back to rehab,” I said.

  “That’s right. Which would be a real shame. I know you’ve only been here a few days, but you seem to be getting along so splendidly. You’re happy in Louth, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” I said, trying my best to smile.

  “Excellent.” He pulled me into a hug that didn’t feel reassuring. “What on earth did you say to your mother that made her think you might have relapsed?” he asked.

  Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes. “I don’t know,” I told him.

  He let go of me and took me by the shoulders, smiling. “Well, let’s let bygones be bygones. What do you say?”

  I nodded silently and turned to go up the stairs.

  “Oh. And, Bram
?”

  I stopped. “Yes?”

  “It’s probably best if you stay away from Nolan Turner. I know it’s crazy, but his father thinks you might be a bad influence.”

  I would have been mortified if I’d thought it was true. But I had a hunch that it wasn’t, and that felt even worse. I’d come to expect low blows from my mother. I hadn’t thought they were James’s style. It hurt even more to be caught off guard.

  * * *

  —

  An hour later, there was a knock at my door. When I opened it, I found Miriam standing in the hall with a tray of food.

  “I thought you might be hungry,” she said. “May I leave this on the vanity?”

  “Sure.” I had no interest in eating. I crawled back into bed.

  She set the tray down and then walked over to where I sat. She stood over me for a moment. There seemed to be something she wanted to say.

  “May I show you something?” she asked at last.

  “Sure,” I said.

  Miriam gestured for me to get up. Then she carefully pushed the bed away from the wall. Plugged into an outlet was a small beige device with a green light. I knew what it was the moment I saw it.

  “I have carbon monoxide detectors hidden all over the house,” Miriam said. “I put them where no one can see them. Your uncle can be quite prickly when it comes to such things. But I promise you’ll hear the alarms if there’s a leak.”

  I didn’t know what to say. Sam had known how James would react when he saw the detectors. He and his mother were savvier than they were letting on.

  “I chose this brand because it’s electric, with backup batteries in case the power goes out,” Miriam continued. “I wouldn’t sleep in the manor without them.” She pushed the bed back against the wall, concealing the carbon monoxide detector from view. “Now,” she said. “May I please have my lemons? I can’t make a lemon tart without them.”

  I woke up that night to find a girl standing by my bed, wearing a white dress and veil. I wasn’t scared when I saw her. More than anything else in the world, I wished she would stay. Real or not, she was on my side. I don’t know how I knew, but I did.