Page 12 of If The Fates Allow
Willa admitted she didn’t know of such things. “I’ve read about them... lived the lives of thousands of people through the pages of my books, but I’m sure I’ll never experience it for myself.”
“Never say never, Ms. Fairweather.”
Never say never? Such faith he had.
In life.
In the future.
Probably because he had one.
Yawning, she listened to the pitter-patter of rain against her windows. Dawn was approaching, and while the wet season might be on its way out, the rumble of thunder and the violent flash of lightning across her windows told her that Mother Nature was setting the stage for yet another day inside Haven House.
No matter. In her mind, she danced again with Noah, the beat of their movements set to the downpour. He had been so attentive, acting as a proper dance partner should.
On their second dream waltz, her eyelids grew heavy, and she gave in to sleep, allowing it to whisk her into a world not her own. A place where she danced every dance and ran the streets of large cities with a trail of friends at her side.
Friends.
Friends were something she had never possessed. Her sisters were her confidants, the lifelines that kept her sane. Lucy functioned as her sounding board, but Grace… Grace had been Willa’s everything. Gracious and kind, with a laugh that burrowed right into the heart, Grace was missed every second of the day.
A muffled thump startled Willa awake, and she lay in the dark for a moment, trying to discern where the noise had come from. No cats were in the room, and it didn’t appear that Lucy had snuck in as she sometimes did when scared during a storm.
Another thump struck, more distinct than before, and Willa sat up, listening intently. It was coming from Grace’s old bedroom next door, which was odd as no one used it. No one even entered it anymore. Seeingit empty was too painful, and only Bonnie went in to clean the cobwebs and dust every now and then.
When yet another knock hit the wall, Willa tossed her blankets aside and turned the lamp on her bedside table up to give the room light. The noise was most certainly coming from next door.
Tentatively, she went to the wall and placed her ear against it, thinking she was dealing with a group of wayward cats. If her mother found them upstairs making mischief in Grace’s room, there would be hell to pay.
There was more shuffling, and with the side of her face pressed completely against the cold wall, a soft, feminine moan greeted her.
With a gasp, Willa straightened. No one would dare. No one. Not even a drunken party guest needing rest for the night would dare use Grace’s room. They knew better. The eldest Fairweather daughter’s absence continued to echo through the halls of Haven House, and to desecrate her private space would be unthinkable.
Another moan carried over, but then it transformed into…
Was that a giggle?
And singing?
Returning to press her ear to the wall again, she attempted to make out the words, but there were none. Just a sweet melody. One Willa had heard hundreds of times before and sung in the same manner.
“Grace?”
Impossible.
And yet.
She hurried over to where her robe hung, flinging it on like a mad woman to rush out. She didn’t bother with her lamp, not needing light to guide her way to Grace’s room. The full moon would do the job, illuminating the landing by shining through the large rear window facing the forest.
But on the landing, the singing stopped, and Willa stood barefoot, listening for more.
Across the landing, Lucy’s door opened. “Willa?” she whispered. “What are you doing?”
“Did you hear singing?”
Bundling her own robe tighter, Lucy stepped out of her room. “Singing?”
“From Grace’s room.”
