Page 12 of Her Alien Neighbor

I set my drink on the floor outside the tub and tear into the letter. It only occurs to me after the envelope is ripped in half that I should’ve saved it, but oh well.

Across the top of the paper in capital letters, it says “WHO” and it reads,

My Dearest Vanessa,

If you’re reading this, I’m most likely gone. Dead. Passed. Expired. Gleefully skinny-dipping in a pool of chocolate syrup with Bruce Lee, if heaven is how I’ve always imagined it.

If heaven is not precisely that, I intend to start a letter-writing campaign and badger the powers that be until I am given what I deserve. Because I certainly deserve a pool of chocolate syrup and some quality time with Bruce Lee, don’t you think?

I know life hasn’t always been kind to you. It wasn’t kind to me, either. Life is often unkind to those who live outside the lines of society. Boundaries put in place hundreds of years ago by men who owned slaves and decided that life should only be lived one way. Their way.

You and I have not followed that path. Perhaps if Victor and I had grown old together, I would’ve had children, I would’ve attended their sports games, their recitals, and their graduations. I might have been a completely different person if my husband had not died young. Alas, daydreaming about “what-ifs” is a fool’s game, because the person I was… I liked. The life I lived was a good one.

I want the same for you, my dear. The path you follow doesn’t matter as long as you’re happy on that path.

A tear falls onto the paper with a splat, blurring the “essa” of my name. I didn’t even realize I was crying.

It may surprise you to learn that I believe you can find happiness right here within these very walls. It may not strike your heart like lightning the moment you unpack your bag. I know you better than that. In fact, it might take a long time for you to truly see its potential, to see the beauty and strength and support this home will provide. But I do believe you will be here long enough to see it.

I know how much you enjoy treasure hunts and solving puzzles. Remember that Easter when you refused to come inside until you checked the entire yard for eggs? Your curious spirit has always been my favorite thing about you, so I have pieced together a fun treasure hunt just for you.

What the…?

Solve the riddles. Find the treasure. Sell the house.

I suck in a breath.

Yes, my dear. There is a pot of gold at the end of this rainbow, and it should cover all the repairs this old home requires. I didn’t have time to fix everything that needs repairs, but I’ve been saving money for quite some time, knowing I would need to eventually.

Oh my god.

If, after you uncover your prize, you decide to sell the house, please know I will understand. Your eternal joy is the only thing I want. But I’m quite certain this journey will make you see your hometown, even this house, a little differently. You may even grow to love it.

I can’t believe she did this. She left me the house knowing I’d find her clues. She didn’t leave me with a broken-down pile of wood that I’d go broke trying to fix up in order to sell. In her final days, Aunt Franny wanted to give me a gift. A gift she hid from everyone.

She’s wrong about growing to love the house or Sudbury. That’s never going to happen. But at least I’ll have some fond memories before I leave this town in my rearview mirror.

In order to find what you seek; you must enter the dwelling of the beast with a beak.

Okay, it’s a riddle, and with “WHO” being all in caps across the top, I’m guessing she must have left five clues around the house for who, what, when, where, and why. So I need to solve five of these riddles before I find her secret money stash. I’m so excited, I practically knock my drink over as I scramble out of the tub.

Then I read the bottom of the page.

If you have trouble locating these clues, there is someone who can help: Axil. Have you met him yet? He lives next door.

Fuck me.

CHAPTER 5

AXIL

My lips seem to be stuck in a proud smile as I continue adding ridiculous song choices to Zev’s playlist. This morning could not have gone any better. Vanessa’s meeting with the listing agent, Denise, went terribly, I assume, and even if she has Denise list the home for sale in the coming days, I plan on making myself a spectacular nuisance at each showing, scaring away any potential buyers.

“You have still not explained why we are torturing our new neighbor with terrible music,” my brother Mylo points out as he leans over my shoulder and inspects the playlist.

“It is for Lady Norton,” I reply, not knowing how else to articulate my desire to irritate Vanessa. No one will want me and my brothers as neighbors if we continue to throw loud gatherings, ensuring Vanessa will remain the owner of the home, just as Lady Norton intended.

That is the only reason I am eager to sabotage the sale of the house. It has nothing to do with keeping Vanessa nearby. In fact, my life would become much easier if she were not so close. The woman is maddening.

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