Page 10 of The Keeper

I swallowed hard, squeezing him tight.

The closer we got to the house, the more I could feel the weight of the past pressing down on me. Each step brought a wave of emotion so intense, I almost turned around and ran. Maxim and Killian flanked me, holding my hands to keep me steady.

Nineteen years.

That’s how long it’d been since I laid eyes on this house.

One of the last times my entire family was intact.

The last summer my twin was still alive.

Anger and guilt slowly rolled through me as I thought again about all the milestones she’d missed.

High school graduation. College graduation. First love. Turning twenty-one. Turning thirty. Becoming the spectacular young woman she was meant to be.

Fighting off the memory of the day everything changed when we were sixteen, I focused on the cheery smile plastered to the realtor’s face.

“Yes, yes. The owner’s just arrived now. We’ll be waiting.” She ended the call and stuck out her hand. “Lovely to see you, Ms. Chase. Thanks for coming all this way.”

“I didn’t have much choice,” I replied with a smile, shaking her hand. “Hopefully we can all agree to terms.”

“I’ve no doubt we can. The buyer is quite excited. They should be here soon, so if you want to wait inside, feel free.”

Wait inside.

I’d rather be dipped in honey and dropped in the middle of Yosemite National Park.

Killian’s gentle tug on my hand coaxed me to look at him. “We’ll go in. Maxim and I will, I mean. You can stay out here.” He focused his attention on the realtor. “Would you mind giving us a tour? We’ve never been here before.”

“Of course, of course.” She smiled. “Right this way.”

The realtor’s animated chatter carried on the light breeze, followed by Killian’s excited responses. I smiled, watching the three of them disappear through the gaping front door. I knew a cavernous foyer awaited them, fringed by a curved staircase hugging the wall as it snaked up to the second floor.

Even after all these years, I could picture the interior right down to the most intricate detail. I could still hear the epic discussions my mother and grandmother would have about throw pillows and color schemes.

My sister and I would stay hidden on the staircase, listening and giggling while they bickered.

“It’s not gold, it’s amber,” my grandmother said in a haughty tone.

“It’s obscene,” my mother griped. “Nobody wants that much gold in a living space.”

Recalling memories with my sister filled me with both joy and unforgivable despair. We’d always planned to keep this cottage and vacation here with our respective husbands and children.

“Remember Tori, don’t marry the bad boy. Date him all you want but don’t marry him.”

“You’re forgetting one important fact, Charlie. Bad boys are more fun. And since we’re twins, you can lure them in with your sweet ways and then I’ll pounce when the time is right.”

“Never,” she responded with a giggle. “As your big sister, I’ll make sure to keep you in line.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. Charlotte and I were physically identical except for a one detail. She had a small beauty mark on her right cheek. Our other differences were much more noticeable. She was gracious, reserved and unselfish. I had a fire in my soul, a loud mouth and a stubborn streak ten miles long.

I didn’t realize I’d been pacing again until I tripped over a rock.

“Goddammit,” I muttered, kicking it away.

It hopped and skipped a couple feet before coming to a stop near the front walk. Lavender foxgloves lined the path leading to the front door. The lawn was dull and winter-worn except for a few patches where the eager blades reached for the early spring sky in long, green grasps.

Briarcliff Cottage had a coquettish charm to it. The mix of gray and white stone exterior teased visitors with its allure of pretentiousness but would always succumb to its true nature. Warm, inviting, and comfortable. Even after all these years it stood with open arms, waiting for someone to fill it with laughter and joy, hot chocolate and fresh baked cookies, late night secrets and whispered dreams.

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