not long at all. Her mother had always accused her of being shifty-eyed, which was not far from the truth. She could never look anyone in the eye for long. After a moment or two, she had always done just as she did this time; she dropped her eyes to the ground. Without a word, the man started to go on.
âWait,â she called after him anxiously. Like it or not he was her only means of finding her way out of this woods. And as much as she disliked Kelsey House, even that seemed preferable to remaining lost where she was. The next noise might be a wild animal after all.
He paused and glanced back over his shoulder at her.
âIâm afraid Iâve lost my way,â she explained, realizing that she sounded like a helpless child. âCan you lead me to where I left my car?â
He paused for a moment longer, without replying.
âOr back to Kelsey House,â she suggested. She had hoped he might take her to the car, but she supposed he was part of whatever conspiracy they had formed against her. She would take her chances at Kelsey House. From there, she thought she could find the path they had taken that first night
Still without a word, he started off again. She hadnât the vaguest idea where he was leading or, if he was leading her at all. Of all the strange occupants of Kelsey, he was indeed the most flagrantly rude of the lot.
âWell,â she thought, âwherever he is going, it has to be somewhere.â If he was not going back to the house, perhaps after all he would lead her to the road, from which she could find her car. Or better yet, perhaps he was going to a neighboring house, where there might be ordinary people like herself, people who would help her. She jumped up from where she had been sitting and started after him, rushing to keep up with his rapid pace.
Another thought came to her as she hurried in his wake, and she called to him, asking, âWere you able to do anything about my car?â It occurred to her that for all she knew that might have been what he was attending to just now.
If he heard her question, though, he gave no evidence of it, but crashed silently onward, just as he had that other time. She knew better than to try slowing her pace, or begging him to wait. She must keep in sight of him or be lost. In directing her attention so firmly to his back, she failed again to see a low hanging branch that cracked smartly across her forehead. The sting brought tears to her eyes and she almost did come to a stubborn stop. But he was disappearing ahead of her, and she ran on to keep from losing him.
The house appeared suddenly, without warning. It was almost, she thought, as if the blasted thing were hiding itself from her, in order to watch her unseen, and then springing up when she least expected it. One minute they were surrounded by nothing but wilds, and she would have sworn there was no sight of the house before them; the next minute the house itself, grotesque and unseemly, loomed up ahead of her.
The man she was following disappeared. She turned once, looking up at the house with mixed feelings of relief and distaste, and when she looked back, her companion, if he could be called that, was gone. She could almost doubt that he had ever been there.
âOh, do be careful,â a voice said.
Jennifer jumped, startled by the unexpected sound of a voice, and turned to find herself facing Aunt Abbie. The older woman stood on the opposite side of a small bush.
âYou might crush the roses,â Aunt Abbie went on, indicating the bush with a protective wave of her hand over it.
It was a rose bush, Jennifer saw, or at least it looked like one, with thorns and thick stems. But there was no evidence of bloom on it, not even of buds. The flowers were as invisible as those Aunt Abbie brought to her room; as invisible as the food they served at meals in the dining room.
âIâm sorry,â Jennifer stammered, pushing her matted hair back with one
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