Page 23 of The Secrets We Keep

I recognized her the second I saw her face—those dark brown eyes and silky chestnut hair. I was guessing by the shocked expression she was giving me as she lay frozen above me that she knew exactly who I was, too.

“Shit,” she cursed again, finally scurrying off me to rise to her feet.

I did the same, taking a bit more time though as I brushed a bit of dust off my shirt.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I blurted out, so surprised to see her here that my sense of decorum went flying out the window.

“Me?” Her eyes went wide with surprise. “What the hell areyoudoing here?”

Damn, she’s still just as hot as?—

Nope. Not gonna think about that.

“I saw someone pull up to the house, and considering there were no lights on and I heard a crash, I figured I’d better make sure it wasn’t being robbed.”

She pulled the cardigan she was wearing tightly around her chest, like a protective shield. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a loose braid down her back, and her eyes were staring daggers into mine.

Marin Mendez.

I never thought I’d see her again.

I never wanted to either.

“They were supposed to leave the lights on for me,” she said quickly, the words tumbling out of her mouth one after another.

“Who was?” I asked, confused as I looked around. The house resembled something out of one of those creepy, old movies.

“The maintenance company,” she explained. “They were supposed to turn on the utilities, open up the house—you know, remove all of this.” She pointed to all the clear wrapping that covered the furniture and all the dust that had settled on it. “And they were going to let Mary and the Floyds know I was coming.”

I grimaced. “Well, that would be a little difficult—the last one, that is.”

“What?” She furrowed her brow and nervously chewed her bottom lip, which only brought attention to it, and now, I couldn’t seem to stare at anything else.

“Uh…oh, um…Mary died,” I finally said, turning my eyes upward. “About three years ago. Billy Radcliffe lives there now.”

“The restaurant owner?”

I nodded, sort of surprised she remembered him so quickly.

“He used to let Daniel…” She paused, pressing her lips together, as if the task of saying his name out loud was difficult. She audibly swallowed. “Um, he used to let my husband use the restaurant Wi-Fi for his Zoom meetings, back before…” She never finished her sentence.

Guilt gnawed at my gut at the mere mention of her late husband.

“Are you selling the house?” I finally asked, startling her somewhat.

Those dark brown eyes met mine, and it felt like a jolt of electricity running down my spine.

Don’t stare, asshole. She’s a fucking widow because of you.

“What? No,” she answered softly. “I’m…” She hesitated.

I held up my hands, cutting her off. “No need to explain. None of my business anyway. I came over to make sure your house wasn’t being broken into, and clearly, it isn’t. So, I’ll leave you to it.”

I didn’t wait for her to reply.

I simply headed for the door and walked away.

My only hope was that whatever had brought her here, it wouldn’t take long. I did not need another ghost haunting me in Ocracoke.

---