Page 65 of A Curse On Black Lake
Oh, child. You should know by now, life is never that black and white.
Chapter twenty-two
Eliana
Thesunisrisingwhile I sit on the front porch waiting for Killian to get here. I couldn’t sleep and was up before my alarm clock. Since Grams died, I’ve had stretches of days I don’t sleep, and toss and turn. Other nights I sleep so hard the exhaustion gives me no other option.
But last night, I kept thinking about the curse. I want to understand my family’s role in it. At first glance, based on what Lily wrote, the Greers were trying to help. But what came of the Radcliffes? What happened to Jasper Jr.?
Killian pulls into the drive next to my dead truck and hops out. “Mornin,” he says.
“Hi,” I whisper, and take a sip of coffee.
“I meant to ask if you knew what was wrong with the truck?”
I shrug. “Not a clue.”
He glances at it over his shoulder. “Do you need help with it?” he asks.
I smile and run a hand through my hair. “Killian, you don’t have to fix everything. I know I need to work on the house, the truck. There’s a lot to do.”
“Good thing I’m pretty handy,” he says, coming up the stairs.
“You really don’t have to,” I whisper.
He blinks a few times and opens the front door for me. “Don’t we have work to do?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” I say and give him a fake salute.
His tongue dips out over his lips, and it makes me wonder if he liked the salute or thesirmore.
The door closes behind me, and I pour him a cup of coffee. “I made some extra eggs if you want them.”
“Thanks,” he grunts, making himself at home, grabbing a fork before sitting at the table.
I lean against the counter and watch him eat while I will my heart to resume its normal rhythm.
“Oh, after we’re done here, I need to go to the library. I don’t remember much from past cases, so I’m hoping the newspapers might jog my memory. Do you want to come?”
I wince at the thought of going into town.
“You’ll be okay, Eliana. I’ll be with you.”
I bite my lower lip, thinking, trying to ignore the building anxiety. “Fine.”
When he’s done, he disappears out the front door, and a few minutes later I hear banging on the front porch.
Wondering what he’s up to, I find Killian on his knees, swinging a hammer.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
“Fixing this,” he says and taps the nail a few more times into the deck board.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because it needed to be fixed.” He looks up at me under the brim of his hat and I shift on my feet.
“Like I said, a lot needs to be fixed around here.”
