Alone by Cyn Balog

Author:Cyn Balog
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2017-08-30T04:00:00+00:00

14

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Fueled by maple-syrup energy and the promise of a party, my siblings drag our guests out of the kitchen and up to the second floor so they can behold their nursery. The girls seem less than excited, but they go along with it—Astrid because there’s nothing better to do and Becca because she obviously can’t stand to be alone in this house. Zoe tugs Astrid up the stairs by the chunky infinity scarf around her neck, nearly choking her. “Wait, you little nut bag!” Astrid shrieks as she climbs up after Zoe. “Yeesh.”

My mother has the same wild look in her eyes she used to get in Boston whenever any of our birthdays rolled around. I like that look. It makes me smile, because no one knows how to throw a party like my mom. She’s rummaging through boxes in the closet and has already announced that we’re going to have a bloody scavenger hunt, whatever that means. “Prepare to have the living daylights scared out of you,” she says.

Wit and Liam pull their coats from the pile of wet clothes they left in the foyer and quickly disappear to check out the backyard, leaving me alone with Heath.

“So,” I tell him. “My mom’s on a mission. I’d better get that trunk of costumes.”

He lets out a surprised laugh, like he’s amazed I actually know how to joke. He follows me up the stairs, practically at my heels, like a Labrador. I stop halfway up. “You don’t have to come.”

He smiles. “I want to.”

I suck in a breath and glare back at him. “You shouldn’t come.”

The smile disappears from his face. I turn around and continue up, but a second later I feel his heavy steps at my heels. I whirl around. “Hello? Are you—”

“Not deaf. Stubborn. Tenacious.” My scowl deepens, and his grin becomes more angelic. “Come on. What am I going to do, sit in the foyer and count the ghosts? Let me help you. What, do you have a thing about having people in your bedroom?”

Not people. Just him. “It could be messy,” I tell him.

We cross the landing and head down the dark back wing of the house. I know he is looking around at the walls the way I did when I first came here. This wing has no rooms and seemingly no purpose. It’s just one long, narrow hall, the walls covered with rust-colored brocade. Every so often, there’s a rectangular indentation underneath the wallpaper, where windows have been filled in. The only purpose of this hall, really, is for what’s at the very end of it. It stops abruptly in shadow and looks like the deadest of dead ends. But off to the side, in an alcove, is my staircase. When we reach it, I start to climb the narrow spiral staircase, my footsteps clanging on the metal.

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