Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I always feel watched.
I have to keep telling myself that he’s gone. He’s gone. He’s not watching. Stop thinking he’s watching.
“I’ll be fine,” I reassure my sister, who has worried about me since the day I was born. She takes being a big sister to a completely different level.
“Apollo told me that a housekeeper and cook will arrive tomorrow. He wants the house to be staffed again, so you won’t be on your own completely.”
“I really need to get back to my home,” I say. “There’s no reason for Apollo to pay to have people here just for me.”
“Ani…” Daphne audibly draws a calming breath. “A few more days, okay? Then we can revisit this conversation. That’s all I ask.”
I can sit here and try to argue, but I know my sister. She’ll win. She always does.
“Fine. A few more days, but then I’m serious. I need to get home and deal with my mess of a life.”
A silence stretches out on the other end, which tells me Daphne isn’t going to just agree to let me go, but I’m not going to battle this out yet. I’m going to need a plan of action to even have a chance of convincing her I’m going to be all right, and I don’t have it yet.
“It’s getting late. We’ll talk tomorrow,” she says. “There’s food in the kitchen and—”
“I can fend for myself,” I say, “but thank you. I appreciate it. Love you.”
“Love you.”
When I hang up, my stomach growls at the mention of food. I do indeed need to find something to eat in the kitchen downstairs. As I get out of the bed, an ominous creak echoes down the hall, and I shiver. It’s not the first time I’ve heard a creak, bump, or shuffle of what I swear are feet when no one is supposed to be in the manor.
Godwin ghosts are everywhere, and I have to keep reminding myself that they’re harmless, even though I know living Godwins are anything but.
After I throw on a borrowed robe and step out into the hallway, my heart pounds, no matter how much I’m telling myself I’m being ridiculous. But when I hear another bang at the end of the hallway, I know it’s not just my imagination. Daphne said the housekeeper and cook don’t arrive until the morning. The house should be empty… and quiet.
Olympus Manor is old and drafty, and the darkness seems to stalk me as I move down the hallway. Still feeling as if I’m being watched, I peer into each of the empty rooms as I pass them but see nothing. I’m not sure what exactly I’m expecting—the Boogie Monster, a ghost, or maybe it’s just bats in the attic fluttering around that I hear.
I reach the end of the hallway where a staircase leads up to the attic. I hesitate, suddenly feeling very foolish in the darkness. This is how people in horror movies die.
That creak comes again, this time, from the attic. Something inside of me wants to go up, but I feel like I’m trespassing if I do.
But then again, maybe I can put my mind at ease by checking it out. It could help me believe that all thoughts of monsters are simply in my head.
After taking a deep breath, I start up the stairs, my footsteps echoing in the darkness. As I reach the top, the creaking becomes louder and more insistent. I step into the attic, my heart in my throat, but then I quickly stop and turn back around.
This is the part in the horror movie where you scream at the screen at how stupid the actor is being. They go places they don’t belong. I will not be that dumb girl. Besides, it’s probably just a raccoon or rats or something, and I’m far from an exterminator. I’ll just tell Daphne that the Godwins better get someone out here to take a look.
Another creak behind me has me jump, so I leave the attic’s doorway and quickly make my way to the kitchen. It’s like when I was a kid, scared of the dark at night. I would pull the blanket up over my head and think of rainbows and flowers.
You can’t see the monsters if you don’t open your eyes.
Chapter
Two
Phoenix
I can’t take my eyes off the screen in front of me. It’s a live feed from the guest room below, showing her lying there, asleep. She looks so peaceful, so innocent, but I know the truth. I’ve seen the bruises on her face, the cuts on her arms. Someone did this to her, and I’m going to make them pay.
Ani is prettier than her sister. The same dark hair, but it shines more as it lies on her pale skin. Her eyes are green, so green and intense they remind me of a panther’s. I see strength in them even though she sleeps broken and beaten in a bed. I watch her as her long eyelashes flutter open and see the way she stares into open space—thinking. She’s planning. She’s plotting. Maybe she wants revenge, but she doesn’t have to. I will do it for her.