Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I hoped he was right.
After lunch, I decided that there was one thing I could make better on my own—the cluttered status of my little room. While I didn’t want to get rid of anything that reminded me of my old home, that didn’t mean I had to keep it in the small space. The Moretti house was so large. Surely there would be a few places I could stash the extra linens and tablecloths. Then once those trunks were empty, maybe I could ask Massimo if they could be stored somewhere else.
I gathered up a stack of sheets and made my way down the hallway. There were a few empty dresser drawers in the guest rooms, but it seemed too close to Massimo’s bedroom. It wasn’t that I was doing anything wrong, exactly, but I didn’t really want him or his staff finding the extra things and questioning me about it. Being questioned by Massimo wasn’t a very comfortable thing.
Still carrying the stack of bedding, I made my way up to the third floor. I’d been here once before. There were a few empty rooms, including one that looked like it had been a nursery, judging by the faded animals on the walls. There was nowhere in there to stash the extra sheets, however.
At the end of the hall, there was a locked door that I guessed led up to the attic, and a bathroom. I set the linens on the sink and closed the door behind me. It was always a relief to use a bathroom other than the one attached to Massimo’s bedroom.
When I was washing my hands, I noticed something in the mirror. Behind me was a small door, about four feet tall and a foot and a half wide. Frowning, I turned to examine it. Was it some kind of access panel? I’d seen such a thing once when a bathtub back home had started leaking. Except this door was bigger than that access panel had been.
There was a small brass knob, and I tried it. It turned, but the door didn’t open. Tugging harder, I felt something give, but it was still stuck. Curious, I tucked a lose strand of hair behind my ear as I looked at it. I wanted to see what was inside partly because it might be a good place to stash the bedding, but also because I was curious.
Suddenly, I remembered the office/library I’d explored the day after I got here. I made my way there and searched the desk until I found a metal letter opener. Returning to the third-floor bathroom, I slid the point of the opener around the edge of the door.
Something clicked, and suddenly it opened half an inch. I pulled it the rest of the way open and peered inside. There was some kind of space back there, but I could only see a few feet of dusty, wooden floor.
I shook my head. This would be the time when a normal person would pull out their phone and use the flashlight feature, but when had my life ever been normal?
Never.
It took me another trip back to the office, but I finally returned with a lit candle. Smiling a little, I remembered how when I first arrived here, the mansion seemed rather old-fashioned, the type of place one might explore by candlelight. And now I was doing just that.
I had to duck my head as I entered the little space. Holding the candle in front of me, I looked around. The far wall was sloped, and I suspected it was the underside of a set of stairs. Cushions were in a pile in the corner, looking as if they hadn’t been touched in years.
A bookcase was on the wall opposite me. The little room was about the same size as the bathroom out there.
Kneeling down, I held the candle out. The shelves of the case held books—children’s books, like maybe for kids in elementary school? And there were toys, too. Old metal trucks and a few games in boxes.
Had this been a clubhouse of some kind? I turned in a circle, being careful not to bump my head on the low ceiling.
There was writing on the wall near the door, and I squinted at it, making out letters. MM, CM, and SM.
Their initials. Had this been some sort of hideout for them? I could see, in a house this impersonal, wanting to get away from everyone else. I certainly felt that way. But I couldn’t imagine the three of them fitting in here well enough to play together, or at least not Carmine. I couldn’t imagine him ever being small.
Something about the little room tugged at my heartstrings. Maybe it was the thought of the three brothers as kids. Or maybe it was just the coziness of it. I plucked a cushion off the pile and hit it to get the dust out. It wasn’t bad, overall. I sank down on it, leaning against the wall, my hands around my knees.