by Mia Sheridan
She stepped carefully over the dirt beneath her feet, cautious not to make a noise and let the thing know she was there—if it didn’t already. She had no idea if it’d been watching her from the darkness of the trees. Maybe it knew exactly where she was. Out here in the night, all alone. Her skin prickled, fear rising inside her. Maybe this was a very bad idea, following her curiosity this way. She couldn’t tell if the thing meant her harm or not. She couldn’t even tell what it was.
She very suddenly wanted her mommy. She glanced up at the house, the attic windows filled with the soft glow of light from within. The safety of her mommy’s arms seemed a hundred miles away. The darkness closed in on Haddie and her heart began pounding. The sound of footsteps grew closer . . . closer. There was a shaft of moonlight cast on the ground next to the shed, and from where Haddie stood at the back, she could see the shadow of looming horns, growing ever larger as the creature approached.
She clenched her eyes shut for a moment, frozen with fear. She thought of the bird the thing had left at her doorstep. She’d decided it was a gift, but maybe it was a warning. Maybe the thing was telling her what it was going to do to her—take her far, far away from Mommy and leave her for dead in a heap of skin and bones.
Haddie swallowed, mustering her courage as she pushed herself off the wall of the shed, turning in the opposite direction from which the thing was approaching. She crept quietly along the perimeter of the structure, but her shadow moved with her, reaching outward and giving her away. Her heartbeat quickened. The creature let out a rusty-sounding laugh, its large, horned shadow following hers.
Haddie picked up her pace. She just needed to make it around to the other side and then she could run for her mommy. If she ran into the open now, she’d have to race for the woods. And that was where the creature lived.
The thing let out a snorty high-pitched sound, halfway between a giggle and a cough and Haddie shivered, moving ever faster. The creature picked up its pace as well as though it was playing a game with Haddie—her fear exciting it as it took chase.
The thing was directly behind her. In her terror, she pictured its head lowered as it raced to spear her with those long, sharp horns.
She raced around the shed, her previous courage dipping as she came to the side where she could make a break for the open grass. The creature was too close though, it’s heavy, flat footsteps right on her heels. Haddie raced around the building again, the creature chasing, that high-pitched snorting sound mixing with its loud puffs of breath. It was so close she could smell it now. It put off the pungent scent of dirt and sweat. As she rounded the corner again, she let out a squeal of fear, looking behind her and directly into the moonlit face of the creature.
Their gazes locked for one startling moment as horror washed through Haddie. Oh! Oh! With another squeal and a burst of adrenalin, Haddie sprinted away from the shed, rounding the corner and fleeing into the open grass toward the house where her mommy waited.
She couldn’t sense the weight of it. She couldn’t tell where it was. And she didn’t understand what she’d seen.
When she made it close enough that the soft glow from the windows above lit the ground, she dared a look back.
There was nothing there.
Nothing at all.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The banging was music to her ears if not to her utterly exhausted brain. After approving the—pleasantly reasonable—bid for the first phase of the project, Mason had been true to his word and said he could get a couple of guys over ASAP to at least begin some of the demolition. As Scarlett and Haddie descended the stairs, Scarlett waved at the two men Mason had sent, already busy tearing up the warped portion of flooring in the foyer. They spared her a quick salute and went back to work.
She grasped Haddie’s hand, leading her toward the back door, to avoid the work being done near the entrance. They stepped out into the warm summer morning, the sun a bright orange orb in the cloudless blue sky. Haddie pulled her hand away and peeked in at the sleeping baby bird, and seemingly content with his comfort level, dropped the dark cloth back over him.
Scarlett would have loved to take a break and leave the little guy at Lilith House, but she’d learned well that he wasn’t keen on missing any of his hour-on-the-hour meals, and so if she didn’t want to terrorize the work crew, she had to cart her new charge with them, along with a baggie of food.
Next time she saw an orphaned baby bird on the ground, she was going to avert her gaze and walk right on by.
That’s your exhaustion speaking, and you know it.
Yeah, she did. She’d never be able to abandon something in need, but darn it, staying up to feed someone else’s demanding—and let’s face it, butt-ugly—baby hadn’t exactly been on any of her lists, master or otherwise.
As they made their way around the side of the house, Scarlett noticed what looked like a green Skittle every few steps, slightly melted and blending into the patchy grass. She stopped, looking behind her and ahead to see that they traveled in a straight line to form a trail that led toward the old shed near the tree line. The shed she hadn’t yet been brave enough to look inside. Who knew what manner of mess it contained?
“Haddie”—she turned to her daughter who’d stopped beside her—“did you do that?” Scarlett nodded down to the widely spaced line of green Skittles.
Haddie paused but then nodded slowly, her expression blank. “Yes, Mommy,” she said. “I was trying to . . . catch something.”
“What? Like a bunny? With candy?”
Haddie swallowed and Scarlett got that internal buzz she felt when Haddie was having trouble communicating something or leaving information out. “Yes, Mommy.” She looked behind them and then ahead. “I left a trail of all the colors.”
Scarlett frowned in confusion. Something had eaten most of the candy. It couldn’t have been a bunny, could it? More likely a scavenger such as a raccoon. Those things would eat anything. A small nervous laugh emerged. “Well, whatever it was that ate your trail, decided it didn’t like the green ones.” Odd. Scarlett took a step forward, heading for the front of the house and their car as Haddie walked beside her. “I guess I can’t blame it.” She smiled down at her daughter. “Everyone knows the green ones aren’t any good.”
Haddie’s expression remained mostly blank, though her eyes were alight with interest. Or . . . wonder. A curiosity that stayed burning in her gaze even as they got in the car and pulled away from Lilith House. A curiosity that Scarlett could see had stolen her away, at least temporarily as she pondered things available only to her own mystifying mind. “It doesn’t like green,” Scarlett thought she heard Haddie murmur under her breath.
Scarlett pulled her eyes away from where she’d watched Haddie for a moment in the rearview mirror, focusing on the windy, single-lane road that weaved through the forest toward town. The drive to Farrow took about thirty minutes, but to Scarlett, who was from Los Angeles where it could literally take two hours to go twenty miles, the drive was nothing. If anything, it was relaxing, a chance to think, to get lost in the quiet of her own head as the road disappeared beneath her tires. Haddie, similarly, seemed happy to quietly stare at the woods outside her window, caught up in her secret thoughts.
As she drove, Scarlett’s mind turned to Camden West and the moment she’d thought he was going to kiss her two nights before. At the memory, a kaleidoscope of unwanted butterflies stirred to life in her stomach. Speaking of curiosity. It seemed she and her daughter were alike in that they both were in possession of far too much of it.
She was slightly embarrassed that she’d been so forthcoming with him, but then again, he’d made her feel like he was deeply interested in her, like he was almost . . . hanging on her every word, and it’d felt good. He’d made her feel interesting, and God, it’d been a long time since she’d thought of herself as such.
Is anything forever, Scarlett? His words reverberated through her mind. She wondered what sort of life he’d lived to make him ask such
a cynical question.
She followed the directions the girl named Amelia Schmidt had given her when they’d spoken on the phone. The girl had been peppy and engaging and Scarlett had liked her immediately. She’d seemed enthusiastic about the idea of looking after Haddie, so she’d set up a meeting for the three of them that morning.
The house where Amelia lived with her parents was in a quaint residential neighborhood in Farrow. Scarlett admired the vining pink bougainvillea that grew up the columns of the front porch. Other than the lush, bright blooms, the house was small and somewhat plain, though it was obviously well-maintained, the paint fresh, the porch swept clean.
Haddie held the bird in his “nest” in one hand, and gripped Scarlett’s with the other as she rapped twice on the door. A moment later, a woman who looked to be in her mid to late fifties pulled it open, offering Scarlett and Haddie a pleasant smile. “You must be Ms. Lattimore.”
“Yes, but please call me Scarlett. And you’re Amelia’s mom?” She hesitated in asking the question. The woman seemed a tad older than she’d expect Amelia’s mother to be, but she certainly wasn’t going to ask if she was her grandmother and find herself with her foot in her mouth. Better to err on the side of youth when making assumptions.
The woman pulled the door open so they could enter and as they stepped over the threshold, she smiled and said, “Yes. Victoria Schmidt. Call me Vicky.”
She closed the door behind them and said, “You must be Haddie.”
Haddie nodded shyly. Vicky glanced at the container in Haddie’s hand, but didn’t ask about it.
Scarlett glanced around, noting the large painting of Jesus’s crucifixion on the wall to their left, and a wooden crucifix on the portion of wall next to the staircase. It made her think of the crucifix she’d found in the closet at Lilith House and a slight shiver of unease moved through her, for what reason she had no idea.
When Scarlett looked back at Vicky, the woman gave them a tepid smile, twisting her hands together as though she was nervous. Or perhaps just shy with strangers. “Welcome to town. Amelia can’t wait to meet you. She’s just out back watering. She loves gardening. She planted everything in our yard. Um, let me go get her.” She nodded to a living room to the right of the hall. “Please make yourselves at home.” She twisted her hands nervously again. “I do hope this works out. I’ve been encouraging Millie to become more independent. That’s important.” Her features twisted slightly and then her expression became placid again. “Millie has always been wonderful with children. I can’t imagine that she won’t be a teacher someday.”
“That’s so great to hear,” Scarlett said, trying to put the obviously socially awkward woman at ease. “We can’t wait to meet her.”
Vicky bobbed her head. “I’ll tell her you’re here. She’ll be in in a minute.”
Scarlett led Haddie to a green couch in the living room with another picture of Jesus—this image of him walking on water—hanging over it. Scarlett appreciated Jesus as much as the next semi-religious girl, but really, this seemed excessive.
Then again, perhaps the world would be a much better place if more people loved Jesus with the same devotion Victoria Schmidt obviously did.
“She’s sad,” she thought she heard Haddie whisper, glancing over to see her daughter peeking under the fabric at the bird.
The sound of the back door opening and then slamming closed broke Scarlett from her thoughts and a moment later, a pretty, blonde teenage girl appeared around the corner, offering them a large smile, her braces glinting in the light streaming in through the front window. “Hi. Scarlett?” She reached out her hand as Scarlett stood to greet her, shaking her hand exuberantly. “I’m Amelia.”
The girl was all legs, her limbs long and slender like a baby colt still growing into its form, and her smile was sweet and infectious. She was bright-eyed and happy, and Scarlett found herself grinning back. Amelia threw herself onto the couch in that way teenagers do, across from where she and Haddie sat. Amelia leaned forward. “Haddie, right? I love that name. As soon as I heard it, I thought you and I might make a good team. Millie and Haddie. We sound like a matching pair, don’t we? Like we just go together?” Amelia’s metal grin widened again, a dimple appearing in her left cheek.
Haddie’s return smile was instantaneous, one of those open, child-like ones that were so rare. She nodded at Millie, her smile morphing into an expression of bashful delight.
Scarlett let out a breath of relief. Haddie liked this girl. She’d liked her immediately and without doubt. And really, that was all Scarlett needed to know. Anything more would be purely about formalities.
“What have you got there?” Amelia asked, pointing to the container Haddie had placed on the coffee table.
“It’s a baby bird,” Haddie said, drawing the dark piece of fabric back slightly.
Amelia leaned over farther and let out a soft gasp of breath. “Oh my goodness. It fell out of its nest?”
Haddie paused but nodded. “We think so,” she said, glancing at Scarlett. “We have to take care of it now. We thought she might not make it because she’s tiny and hurt, but my mommy said she’s a fighter.” There was a gravity in Haddie’s tone that Scarlett had never heard before and, with surprised interest, she glanced over to see her gaze glued to Millie as though she was in a semi-trance.
“Poor little thing,” Amelia murmured, putting her hand over her heart. At the gesture, Haddie blinked and looked down. “How do you know it’s a she?” Scarlett had wondered that too when Haddie said it. Scarlett had been referring to the bird as a he, but really, she had no basis for that.
“I just . . . feel it,” Haddie said.
Amelia smiled at Haddie. “Ah.”
“She eats egg,” Haddie explained. “But we’re going to stop at the pet store after this and buy some baby bird formula.”
Scarlett watched as the two girls—their golden heads bent together over the tiny bird—discussed its care. She marveled at the fact that there was something so immediately comfortable about Amelia, as though she was a long-lost friend they were catching up with. What a sweet girl she seemed to be.
When Haddie gently placed the cloth over the bird, Scarlett said, “Well, speaking of that little guy, or, I mean, girl, we’d better get going before she wakes up hungry. It was lovely meeting you, Millie. I’d love it if you’d watch Haddie. I think you two get along great.”
“I’d love to,” Millie said. “Especially now after meeting Haddie.” She offered a smile. “My parents had me later in life—sort of a surprise baby, you know?—so there were no siblings, just me.” She looked at Haddie. “I’ve always wished for a little sister.”
Haddie smiled back shyly at Millie.
“Then this works out perfectly,” Scarlett said. “Right, Haddie?” She pushed a lock of hair off her daughter’s forehead as she nodded. When she looked back at Millie, she asked, “Your mother is okay with Haddie coming here some days?”
“Oh definitely. She’s shy, but my mom’s really nice.” She nodded up to the picture of Jesus and leaned in closer. “Very involved with the church if you didn’t already guess.”
Scarlett smiled. “You must be part of the youth group? Sister Madge mentioned it earlier.”
Millie shook her head. “This fall I will be. But there’s a separate group for the original town members. Stuck-up, right?” She rolled her eyes and Scarlett breathed out a laugh.
“Um . . . I’ll go with”—she squinted one eye—"traditional.”
Millie grinned. “Oh!” she said, turning her attention to Haddie. “I forgot to tell you I have a craft room upstairs with everything you can imagine. We can color and make friendship bracelets, and do all sorts of things. Maybe we could even make a little cradle for your baby bird so she doesn’t have to sleep in a box.”
“A craft room,” Scarlett repeated, smiling at her daughter. “That sounds right up Haddie’s alley, right?” Haddie’s eyes had lit up as Millie described the room and now she nod
ded enthusiastically at Scarlett.
“And do you feel okay watching Haddie at Lilith House some days?” she asked Millie. “I’d pick you up, of course.”
“Promise there are no ghosts there? That’s what the kids say.” She let out a soft laugh.
Scarlett forced a smile, thinking about the fear she’d felt the night before at the sounds of someone climbing up the inside of the wall. Kids, just kids. She resisted a shiver. “Ghosts? No. We haven’t seen any, right, Haddie?”
Haddie nodded, even as her eyes slid away.
Millie let out a small giggle and shrugged. “We’re not afraid of ghosts anyway, right, Haddie?” She winked at her.
“Sometimes,” Haddie said softly. “But not all the time.”
Scarlett set up an appointment to pick Amelia up for a few hours of childcare the next day and they said their goodbyes to Millie.
As they stepped back out into the sunshine, Scarlett felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, and this feeling of peace had descended, Millie’s sweet cheer a balm to her soul that she hadn’t even realized she’d needed so desperately. So many things in Farrow felt so odd—disconcerting—but here was this girl, this breath of fresh air.
The move was a major adjustment for both of them, and Scarlett had felt guilty for taking her sensitive child away from the only home she’d ever known, from Merrilee’s love and affection, from Gram’s steady presence. So to see the joy in her face as she interacted with Millie was the best gift she could possibly receive.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Thirteen Years Ago
Kandace was having the strangest dreams. Only the weirdest part was, she really couldn’t remember anything about them. All she knew was that she would wake up with this odd sort of heavy feeling, but when she’d tried to piece together the dream that left her with those sensations, she couldn’t remember a single thing about them.
