Solstice Whispers: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (Ravenwood Hills Book 2) by Phaedra Weldon

Author:Phaedra Weldon [Weldon, Phaedra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Caldwell Press
Published: 2021-06-22T05:00:00+00:00

sixteen

It was a mental home called Morningtide Mental Hospital. A place for what the sign said was the lightly disturbed.

Lightly disturbed? What did that mean?

The GPS took me and Pye to a one-story home that sprawled over several thousand square feet. It sat behind a fence with a gate that allowed us in—to my surprise. I parked the car in one of the front parking spaces, behind a line of perfectly rounded hedges, all topped with snow. It looked like icing.

With my buddy hidden in my oversized shoulder bag, I wrapped my coat close to my body and went up the steps to the front porch to the door. A voice told me to wait one moment, and then the door buzzed. I pushed it in and stood in a small anteroom.

“If you can put your purse on the hook and stand with your arms out, please.”

Oh…kay. I hung the purse and held out my arms. A man in white scrubs stepped in and did a very careful pat-down, and then motioned for me to follow him. I grabbed my bag and kept it as close as I could.

I was led past a reception desk and then guided to the left past a long row of planters, full of fake, plastic plants, and into what looked like an airport waiting area. There were round tables and chairs in scattered groups and it looked like the tables were bolted to the floor.

We went past those and down a hall and made a left—

And I gasped.

We were in a beautiful indoor garden. It was like someone had taken a back porch, glassed it in, and set a table and chair in the center of it. I could identify a plethora of warm climate exotics as well as the usual pothos, a few snake plants, a beautiful Japanese maple growing nicely in a ceramic pot in the corner, shelves full of different flowering varieties, all so beautiful against the white background outside the windows.

In the center, facing away from us, was a woman in her late forties. She turned as we approached and clasped her hands in front of her. She had blonde and gray hair pulled back in a long braid. Her skin looked a little...odd. At first, I thought there were wrinkles in odd places. But the closer I got, the more I thought they looked like...cracks?

She wore a cotton tunic over a pair of loose jeans and slippers.

“Hey,” my guide said. “Your guest is here. But remember, we close in two hours.”

“I know,” said the voice I recognized from the phone. “We’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” he nodded to me and left.

I stood facing this person…though I’d pretty much figured out who she was. So I cleared my throat. “Abigail Huckabee, I presume.”

She gave me a half-smile. "He said you'd figure it out. That you were smart." She moved past me to the entrance and looked to the right. "Sorry, I wanted to make sure he was gone. He thinks I'm talking to myself.

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