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)
Just like now.
She gets out of bed, stretches, and heads to the bathroom.
I release the breath that I have been holding as I watch her every move. But as she’s getting ready, I see something that makes my blood boil. Her phone lights up on the end table, and I know it’s her sister.
The enemy.
The betrayer.
The woman who should be dead.
I hate when she talks with her. I hate it.
Ani is better than her sister. So, so much better.
And what kind of sister just leaves her here by herself? Apollo and Daphne just left to worry about themselves.
Well… Ani has me. I’m here. I’m always going to be here.
Chapter
Three
Ani
Who could stay locked within four walls day in, and day out and not go crazy? Although this room is bigger than my trailer on the Eastside of Heathens Hollow, I feel as if it’s getting smaller and smaller as the days go by, which tells me one thing.
It’s time to leave. It’s time to start my life.
But how? I have no actual skills to get a good-paying job. Not that there are many of them on Heathens Hollow. I could be a fish monger again, and most likely will have to be to put food on my table, but I haven’t done that job since marrying Mark. He wouldn’t allow me to work. He wanted me to completely depend on him and his next-to-nothing income he brought home every month.
I get out of bed and start pacing the room. My body hurts from immobility. I need to stretch and work my muscles again. Deciding to do some basic yoga moves to get blood flowing into places of my body that feel frozen in place, I sit down on the hardwood floor and take a few deep breaths to center myself. I slowly stretch my body, bending my arms and legs in different directions and working up to more difficult poses. I twist my back, extending one arm over my head, with the other reaching for the floor.
Without warning, something gives beneath me, and the wood plank I am balancing on comes loose from the floorboard. Startled, I jump back on my heels while frantically trying to pull the loose piece of wood back into place. My heart pounds with the realization that I have caused serious damage to the Godwins’ home.
I frantically try to press the loose plank back into place. As I struggle to secure it, something catches my eye. It’s a small gap at the corner of the floorboard that reveals items within the hole. My pulse quickens as I realize what this could mean: someone has been hiding things inside this floorboard.
Whatever it is, is tucked away in this hole beneath the floor for a reason. But curiosity is most certainly killing this cat. I want to see what’s inside. What is in hiding?
I reach inside and withdraw four leather-bound journals. Though old, they appear rich and elegant. They are tied with a piece of leather string, not strong enough to take away my temptation to see what’s inside, however.
But as much as I want to read each one, the person who wrote what’s inside wanted these hidden for a reason, and something deep inside of me wants to honor their wishes. These are someone else’s secrets.
I should resist. I should put them back where I found them and continue with my yoga. But I can’t. Shit…
After climbing back in the bed, I pull the blankets over me like I did when I was a kid and wanted to read by flashlight.
This will be my secret. Mine and whoever wrote these journals.
I open the leather notebook and see the name Freya Godwin written in perfect script. I don’t know all that much about the Godwin family, but from what I do know, Freya was the mother of Apollo, Athena, Ares, and Phoenix, and was married to Troy Godwin. I met everyone briefly at Daphne and Apollo’s wedding, but they weren’t exactly welcoming or chit-chatty with me. Freya didn’t attend the wedding. If I remember correctly, it was because she died. In fact, I think it was suicide. Daphne knew some of the story and had told me that Apollo didn’t like to talk about his mother. No one in the family discussed her or brought up her name. I don’t remember any pictures or anything being present of Freya in the house anytime I looked around either. It’s like they wiped her from the Godwin history.
I consider returning the journal. I’m invading a dead woman’s privacy. But then again… I’m so freaking bored and… Yeah, I’m the cat that curiosity very well may kill.
Dear Diary,
I can still feel the excitement I had as Troy and I set off for our special date. Our destination was a beautiful cabin in the mountains, and as we drove, I could feel my heart racing with anticipation.