Page 84 of Broken Bonds

The sitting room has been decorated with a dark green wallpaper featuring a beautiful pattern of black damask designs. It has a rather gothic vibe to it that I find quite appealing. I can envision a deep navy and bronze chaise situated beneath the large window, accompanied by plush velvet couches in a maroon hue with a black coffee table in the middle. Matching black side tables would sit on either side of the largest couch, and old stained-glass lamps would sit perched on both. I would hang sheer black curtains on bronze rods over the windows so when left open on nice, breezy days, they’d float ethereally with wind.

To complete the look, a large area rug in a shade of black that shimmers green in the sunlight could be placed underneath the couches and tables.

I can see it all so clearly as I look about the room. A roaring fire in the fireplace. Me, curled on the couch with a mug of warm cider while the kids play outside, their laughter floating in through the open windows. When Jillian interrupts me, the vision fades, and the room is once again bare with peeling wallpaper and water damage.

“This place is amazing. Can you imagine living here? I bet if someone ever bought this land before the structures completely give way, they could fix the buildings up and make it a tourist place or… something. Maybe a vacation place,” she says, walking around the room.

I get sad when I think of someone buying this land up, this house, and turning it into something for commercial tourism. Now, a vacation home… That’d be lovely if someone did that. They’d have so much peace out here.

If they can ignore the ghosts, that is.

“Wanna move along upstairs and see if we find anything there?” I finally ask her, already heading to the stairs.

“Hold up! Don’t go up alone. You could fall or… something.”

I roll my eyes and huff. I swear she’s taken up my alpha’s job of hovering and being overly cautious since they died.

“I’m pregnant, Jilly, not an invalid. I think I can handle walking up some stairs on my own,” I tell her, my right arm curling around my belly so my hand can rest underneath while my left hand grabs the banister just in case.

I will say that Forde was right when he took me to that rage room and gave me that kinesiology tape. It’s helped a ton with the weight bearing down on my hips and the general discomfort I’ve been dealing with as I get bigger to accommodate these babies.

The house itself has three floors, with the third being an attic from what I can tell. On the first floor, there’s the kitchen, sitting room, a dining room, two bathrooms, a study, a small personal library, and another sitting room/living room. The second floor holds several bedrooms and bathrooms, as well as a massive nest next door to the master bedroom.

Jillian and I quickly check all the rooms and look through the bathrooms, but they’re as bare as downstairs. Simultaneously, we head for the next set of stairs. These are smaller than the ones that start in the home’s entryway and lead to the second floor. At the top, we reach a door that’s closed and when I turn the doorknob, it won’t budge.

Locked.

I sigh in disappointment. There could be nothing behind this door, like all the others, but I don’t think that’s so. I can feel in my gut that there’s something in the attic and there’s an itch under my skin urging me to get in there and find it.

“Damn. I don’t have anything on me that would work to try picking the lock. Besides, looks like it takes one of those old timey skeleton key things,” Jillian says behind me.

I look at the locked door in front of me sadly, feeling defeated as I turn to head back down the stairway. Jillian is already halfway down the stairs when I turn. On the third step, I hear an audible click behind me and then a creaking sound. I freeze.

No fucking way.

When I turn my head to look behind me, the door that was justlockedis now sitting slightly ajar.

“Jillian,” I whisper, eyes wide on the door.

There’s nothing there. It’s just a door that’s cracked open, but it shouldn’t be open.

“What?”

“The door is open now.”

I swallow and turn, not taking my eyes off the door.

“That’s not possible.”

Her feet thump behind me as she runs back up the stairs. She nearly collides with my back when she catches sight of the now open door.

“You havegotto be kidding me,” she whispers at my back.

“Do we go in?” I ask her, trying to see through the crack from where I’m standing, but it’s too dark.

“If we were smart, we’d turn around and get the hell out of here, but we’ve never claimed to be geniuses. Personally, I want to know what’s in there. What about you?”

All I do is nod, and she presses against my back. We slowly approach the door and push it farther open. Jillian turns on the flashlight on her phone and when we walk in, we gasp.

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