Page 10 of The Midnight Order
As they leave and I watch the taillights grow further away, I realize I’m standing alone in the very spot someone was watching me.
Bolting inside, I lock myself back in before I let my mind reel at the officer’s admission.
Aunt Soliel was murdered.
Looking around, I feel like the house looks different. It’s like my perspective is shifting, and now, instead of looking around at clutter, I’m looking around at evidence.
You’re more yourself at home, so who’s to say there isn’t something in this house that explains what happened to Soliel in her final days?
She was in her upper eighties, so when the lawyer said she died from heart failure, I didn’t blink at it.
Her age is the factor that has worry rising in the back of my throat like bile because who in their right mind would kill someone who’s in their eighties?
I look toward the window, wondering if I just glimpsed the shadow of my aunt’s killer as they stood watching me, likely sizing me up so they could get away with their crime.
I’m the Dormund heir, the final living relative of this bloodline. If someone had an issue with my bloodline, I’m the only one standing in the way of their problems disappearing.
You’re getting ahead of yourself.
Rushing the windows, I pull the blinds and the curtains closed, forgetting all about the spiderwebs encasing them until my hands are covered.
I do the same to every window in the house until I’m edging toward a panic attack.
Fuck.
This was supposed to be an easy renovation and flip job. I was supposed to enjoy restoring this house to its glory before making it someone’s home and using the time to center myself.
This is not what I had in mind when I told the lawyer I was coming to Blackmoore.
I’ve only been here two days, and already, the townsfolk look at me as if they’re walking on eggshells when I’m around. I have a stalker and live near some haunted manor everyone seems deathly afraid of.
I chug back mouthfuls of wine before dropping the bottle to the counter with a clang.
“Don’t worry, Sil. It can’t get any worse,” I tell myself.
As a chill spreads through my bones like cracking ice, I regret my words and wish I could take them back.
However, they’re in the ether now, and I know I’ll come to regret them.
Only time will tell how much.
Chapter 4
Silver
Followingthe contractor around the yard, I sip my coffee as he gives me all the good news about the house.
At this point, I wonder if leveling it and starting fresh would be a good idea.
“The foundation is solid, but termites are eating the porch, as you likely suspected, when your foot went through it. They’ll be in the walls probably, too.”
“So, add tenting to the list of expenses,” I muse.
He nods, looking at me over the brim of his thin-framed, square glasses. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll do that first, as we’ll want to assess the damage once the place is rid of the little beggars.”
I smirk and sip more of my coffee. I hate that I notice how drab it tastes compared to a latte from Spellbinding Coffee.
I make a mental note to make a trip for some later, tuning out the contractor as he groans on and on about things needing to be done.
