The Eternal Ones by Kirsten Miller

Author:Kirsten Miller
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Legends, Myths, Body, Fables, New York (N.Y.), Fashion Design, Mind & Spirit, Faith, Love & Romance, Juvenile Fiction, United States, Fate and Fatalism, Clothing & Dress, Art, People & Places, Love Stories, Fashion, Love, Reincarnation, General, Tennessee, Visionary & Metaphysical
ISBN: 9781595143754
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2010-08-09T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Haven found herself in a quiet, leafy square a block away from bustling Park Avenue South. In the center of the square, a tall, wrought-iron fence enclosed

a lush and lovely park. The statue of a melancholy man with his head bowed in thought seemed to hover above the greenery. Two people strolled the

gravel paths beneath the statue, speaking in hushed tones. Haven watched as a small boy tried to push the park’s gate open, only to find it locked. He

stood for a moment with his fingers wrapped around iron bars, gazing into the secret world in the center of Manhattan.

Among the mansions that lined the south side of the square stood an old brownstone with a wide balcony that faced the park. Thick green vines

crawled up the front of the building, clinging to the balcony, creeping across windowsills and dangling over the front door. The house seemed abandoned

—like the scene of a grisly crime, now inhabited only by ghosts. Haven knew at once that it was the mansion from her visions—formerly the Strickland

family home and currently the headquarters of the Ouroboros Society. As she climbed the stoop to the entrance, memories of meetings, celebrations

—even funerals—flashed like a slide show in her head. The images stopped as soon as she opened the door. The interior of the building had been

completely renovated. It was now airy and modern—nothing at all like the wood-paneled mansion she remembered. Haven instantly felt cold. She would

have sworn that she’d never been there before. The mansion was as sterile and lifeless as a computer-chip factory, and a voice in Haven’s head was

begging her to leave.

A few yards from the door, a receptionist sat at a steel and glass desk. The beige leather chairs in the waiting area were crammed with little children

and their parents. The adults were filling out questionnaires as the children read books or played video games. Haven noticed one small girl with a copy

of Dante’s Divine Comedy lying open on her lap.

“May I help you?” the young man at the front desk asked politely. With his perfectly combed hair, black glasses, and white shirt, he looked as though

he’d been sculpted out of plastic.

“Hi there.” Haven couldn’t pull her eyes away from the crowd of visitors in the lobby. “Are all of these people members of the Society?” she asked softly.

“Certainly not,” the receptionist replied with all the emotion of an automated recording. “Parents bring their offspring in for past-life analysis. But most of

these children merely watch too much television. Only a tiny percentage will ever be offered a membership. Now. May I help you?”

“Yes,” Haven said, recalling her task. “I’d like to make an appointment with Ms. Singh, the president of your Society.”

The receptionist looked caught off guard, as if Haven had asked for an audience with the queen.

“And you are?”

“My name is Haven Moore.”

The receptionist blinked twice. “Ms. Singh is out of the office,” he informed her. “But I expect her back at any minute. If you would like to take a seat, she

may be able to see you when she returns.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.