Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Okay. Weird. But so was having someone do an exorcism on a historical gem like this.
“He probably just got spooked. The rotting wood is pretty terrifying.” I gave his arm a squeeze. “Stop worrying. We’ll be fine.” Were all Realtors this paranoid?
Maurice smiled stiffly. “Anything comes up, let me know.”
“I’m sure a thousand things will come up, but they’ll be related to plumbing and electrical wires.” I clapped his arm. “Thank you, Maurice. For everything.”
He nodded and walked to his car parked along the curb.
I watched him drive away with a smile glued to my face. Once he was out of sight, I turned around and stared nervously at the towering home with dark windows beneath rotting hand-carved overhangs.
Something moved in the room on the top right.
What was… I squinted, but then the shape was gone. I shrugged it off as a reflection and went inside.
“Hello, dream house,” I said, standing in the foyer, my eyes gliding up the gorgeous hand-carved banister with intricate swirls around the balusters. I imagined a woman with a frilly gown and hoop skirt strolling down the staircase to greet her suitor or rushing to her horse-drawn carriage outside to shop for hats.
A tingle washed over my arms. I could feel the history of this place all around me. It was exciting to think that Leo and I were about to add our own story to these walls. Maybe in a hundred years, someone else would be standing in this very foyer, wondering what our lives were like.
“You ready, dream house?” I said. “We’re going to fix you up nice and make you feel loved again.”
The front door slammed shut behind me.
“Jesus!” I jumped, pressing my hand over my heart. The house was suddenly quiet—not a creak or groan as I shifted my weight on the parquet floor. It almost felt like the house was holding its breath, watching me.
Piper, you’re creeping yourself out. “I’m getting a speaker! And I’m going to play music all the time. You hear that, dream house? So be as quiet as you want or make creaking sounds. I don’t care.”
I made my way to the kitchen, ready to jump in and start planning the demolition. Tonight, Leo and I would have takeout in the big dining room to celebrate. Fold-out chairs, camping table, and plastic cups overflowing with the cheapest champagne money could buy.
This was a dream come true. I just hoped Leo really wanted it. Sometimes, I just wasn’t sure his excitement matched my own.
Draco
I removed my IVs and slid from the bed. My legs were like two fragile sticks, barely strong enough to hold my weight. These were not my legs. These were not my skinny arms. What the fuck was going on?
I crawled across the cold stone floor, panting with exertion. On the table by the door was a thick, leather-bound book. The room itself was nothing more than a cellar.
How had I gotten here? How long had I been in that bed? Going by my body’s condition, it had to have been years.
Thinking it might be some sort of doctor’s journal, I grabbed the book with my unsteady hands and maneuvered it to the floor in front of me. I slowly moved to a sitting position with my back to the wall and began flipping through the handwritten pages.
Draco, you will remember your first day of kindergarten as both terrifying and exciting. When you look around, you will see children your age who are happily playing. This will put you at ease. When you meet your teacher, Miss Joanne, you’ll notice her big smile and pay attention to her every word.
“What the…?” I remembered Miss Joanne. I remembered my first day of school, too. I had a cheese sandwich for lunch, and when I got home, I showed my parents my first official school drawing of an octopus.
I thumbed through the pages, each notation reading like an outline of a play that mirrored my life. Even the first time I fucked was in here. Maria. Twelfth grade. Each page represented a week of my life. Each chapter represented a year.
Why would someone take the time to catalog my life? And more importantly, how did they know so much?
I flipped to the page that corresponded to today, the last week of my twenty-ninth year.
Draco, you love Zarda and have decided that you can’t risk losing her, even if it means setting your work aside. You will buy her a ring and propose at your thirtieth birthday party next week in front of your entire family. You are so happy and content in life. You are loved in every way possible now.
My stomach twisted in a knot, the niggling of a dark, horrifying thought circling in the back of my mind. Maybe I’d been taken by some deranged stalker. Maybe they’d been using me for experiments. But to what end? None of this made sense.