Page 80 of The Manor of Dreams

“Good. I don’t either.”

Nora’s fingers traced her jawline, and Madeline felt herself dissolving under her touch. She felt the rhythm of Nora’s breath, the steady rise and the fall. “I don’t care if this is weird. I like it,” Madeline said, smiling to herself. “Besides, nothing about this place is normal.”

“Agreed,” Nora said. Madeline saw her reach down to cradle Madeline’s forearm and raise it to the light, so gently that Madeline barely felt it. “Let me change this out. Does this hurt?”

Madeline shook her head. It only ached, and it wasn’t unbearable.

“Okay. Good.”

“Do you remember…” Madeline sighed. “I wish I’d brought this up sooner. But when I was out there, I saw the flowers. And they were strange. Something was coming out of them. It was like they were—”

“Bleeding,” Nora said.

So you saw it too.“I tried looking again the other day. But it wasn’t happening anymore. They were just there.”

She felt Nora tense. “We talked about this. We can’t—”

“I know,” Madeline insisted. “I know we talked about it. Something is fucked-up out there. But things are weird in here, too.” Madeline paused. “Do you see the vines?”

“The what?”

Madeline pushed herself up. “It’s like… vines are coming through the walls. I saw it in the library the other day. Did you?”

Nora frowned. “No. I don’t know? Maybe this house messes with us in different ways.”

Madeline played with a loose thread. “A personalized experience.”

“Did you feel the earthquakes?”

Madeline looked up. “Earthquakes?”

Nora stared back. “The first two nights we were here. But maybe that’s because I’m staying closer to the ground? You haven’t felt them?”

Madeline shook her head. “I don’t feel anything at all up here.”

NORAcame down from Madeline’s room eventually. She couldn’t stop thinking about Madeline, the way she laid her head on Nora’s chest and brushed her collarbone with a kiss, the way Madeline looked up at her, full lips pursed into a small, trusting smile.

And Nora didn’t deserve it.

She had become certain of one thing that night: the house shouldn’t be theirs.

Of course she’d wanted it at the beginning. The plan was to sell it and pay for school. It was retribution, wasn’t it, taking this house from them? But now she felt uncomfortable even thinking about it. It was the last piece Madeline had of her family history.

The next morning when Nora woke, she steeled herself and headed across the hallway. She listened to the pacing footsteps from within to confirm that her mother was awake, and then knocked on the door. “Ma.”

The footsteps stopped.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m busy.”

Nora said, “I need to talk to you.”

A pause. The hallway light flickered. Something crumbled down from a jagged crack in the wall. Nora looked up and collected it in her palm. Was thatdirt?

The door opened.

“We can’t have the house,” Nora started. “We can’t be doing this.”

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