Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
But I swear, I feel someone watching. I feel it all the time, even when Arsen’s not home. Like there are eyes in the mansion.
He swears there aren’t any cameras in our private spaces, though.
I can’t take it anymore. I’ve been hearing weird noises in the walls ever since coming here, and it’s starting to really bother me. I’m pretty sure they’re not ghosts, but what else can it be?
I start knocking on the walls, listening for something that sounds hollow. There’s nothing. I bang on the shelves and yank at the books like I might find some secret lever. Still nothing. “I know you’re in here,” I say, clenching my jaw. “And I’m gonna find you.”
I swear, I hear someone whisper, stop looking.
I yelp and turn around, but the room’s totally empty. It takes a minute before my heartrate slows enough to hurry into the kitchen where Maud’s preparing lunch.
“How’s the great clean-up going?” she asks casually. I still haven’t forgiven her for drugging me, but I decided it’s better to be on a poisoner’s good side.
“Coming along great. Except I’m pretty sure there are ghosts in the walls.”
Her eyebrows raise. “Excuse me?”
“Ghosts. In the walls.” I pace back and forth, gesturing in the air. “I keep hearing them and I swear one told me to stop looking for him just now.”
“I’m pretty sure there aren’t ghosts.”
I give her a look. “Just like there aren’t skeletons?”
“Different thing entirely.” She waves a wooden spoon at me. “Why don’t you sit down and take a break? I’ll make you some herbal tea to help you calm down.”
“I don’t need to calm down,” I mutter and storm out of the kitchen again.
I knew Maud wasn’t going to be much of a help. If she knows this house’s secrets, she’s sure as hell not saying.
Back in the library, I go at that place like a badger digging for a snake. I tap on every inch of the damn room and don’t find a damn thing.
The fireplace is last. I crawl inside on my back and stare up into the chute. I sneeze from the old soot. I tap the walls and listen, but there’s nothing. I’m ready to give up when I crawl out backwards and bang my head on the edge of the mantel.
“Ah, shit,” I groan, curling up on my side.
But I swear, there’s a loud, hollow thunk.
My skull’s pounding, but so is my heart. I stare at the little decorative angel’s face. It’s got a piece of my scalp on the edge. But the face is tilted sideways like it’s meant to wiggle free.
I grab it—and the thing jiggles.
“Holy fuck nuts,” I whisper.
And give it a yank.
There’s a loud click. The fireplace shudders and the bookshelf next to it suddenly swings open.
I leap to my feet, head pounding, and throw my hands in the air.
“Fuck yes!” I shout at the top of my lungs. “Hidden fucking passage!”
I knew it. I freaking knew it. All this time, I’ve been hearing weird crap in the walls, and that’s because there are secret fucking tunnels.
It’s absolute heaven for a girl like me.
I hesitate though. Arsen wants me to keep safe. That time I got stuck in the crawlspace was pretty embarrassing, but he’s got a point. I’m pregnant with our child, and I really should be trying to keep myself out of trouble.
But screw it.
Secret freaking passages!
I squirm my way into the narrow gap. It’s just wide enough for me to shuffle sideways. I suck in a shocked breath as I realize there are little holes in the walls at about eye height, or at least eye height for a person taller than me. I peer into a few of them and see a bunch of empty rooms.
Something moves up ahead. A dark shape disappears around a corner. I shout for them to stop and launch myself forward, heedless of how dumb this is. There could be rusty nails or bear traps for all I know, but screw it.
Someone’s running from me.
And I’m in a secret freaking passage.
I rush after the mystery person. The space turns left and right at the junction ahead and I go left. The shape is just ahead, turning another corner. I go as flat as I can, scraping my sides and arms on the interior walls, getting a face full of insulation, but not slowing down.
Until I reach a dead end.
“Shit,” I say and kick the wall.
It bangs—and swings open.
I stagger out into one of the spare bedrooms. It’s on the far end of the house opposite the library. There’s no sign that anyone’s been in here, but whoever I chased must’ve come this way.
I duck into the hall. It’s completely empty except for a young woman vacuuming. She’s wearing headphones and flinches when I storm up to her.