Six Feet Below Zero by Ena Jones

Six Feet Below Zero by Ena Jones

Author:Ena Jones [Jones, Ena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Holiday House
Published: 2021-04-13T00:00:00+00:00


I filled the garbage bags. Great-Grammy would have been proud of the way I decided what to keep and what to give away.

I did everything I thought I should. As in, everything I imagined Great-Grammy would have approved of. Like, shoving those flowered suitcases underneath my bed as far as I could.

Somewhere in the middle of sorting socks, folding shirts and sweaters, and hanging Sunday dresses, as Great-Grammy called them, it occurred to me that even if she had been having money problems, it wouldn’t be Grim Hesper she’d want helping her.

It would be Aunt Tilly.

Baker stuck his head in my room around five. That was usually his time to be so ravenously hungry he couldn’t think of anything but food. I expected him to ask about dinner, or the stuffed garbage bags, or my mountain, which was now a smallish hill, but he didn’t.

“What is going on around here?” he said, gesturing toward the hall.

I let out a low grumble. “I’ve been staying out of the way. Grim Hesper’s had tons of people cleaning and fixing the whole house. I’d check your bedroom. They’ve been everywhere.”

“Rosie,” he said slowly. “When was the last time you left this room?”

I was folding a pair of leggings, wondering if I should keep them or not. “Not for a few hours, why?”

“Everything’s gone!”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “She sent the chandeliers out to be cleaned. The rooms look naked.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he said. “Get up. You need to see for yourself.” The color was gone from Baker’s face.

I jumped to my feet and followed him.

About midway down the stairs I noticed it wasn’t just the foyer chandelier that was missing. The area rug, the bench we put our schoolbags on, the paintings and mirrors that had hung in the front hall since eighty years before I was born… they were gone, too.

My feet stepped double-time as we landed on the now-naked wood floor of the foyer, then ran into the living room. I couldn’t believe what I wasn’t seeing. It was bare. The couch, side tables, paintings, rugs, and even Great-Grammy’s favorite chair, the one she died in—where was everything?

Baker took my arm and we held each other up as we sped across the house to the dining room, which was just as empty as the living room. I was about to scream when I noticed something else.

It was quiet.

No creaking footsteps, no hammering or scraping, no buzzing chain saws or rumbling diesel trucks.

“Where is she?”

I could barely shake my head. “I haven’t seen her for hours.”

My pulse started racing.

“Baker, c’mon!” I sprinted through the kitchen to the basement door.

We were too late.

As we rounded the corner, dear Grim Hesper appeared from below. That below. The basement below.

She was in a serious lather as she slammed the door, and when she saw us her eyes popped even bigger. “What on earth is Mother doing down there?”

We were doomed. My insides trembled as Grim Hesper kept on in a low, accusing tone. “I’ve noticed you two sneaking down to that god-awful tomb, but until now, I didn’t know why.



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