chill went down her back, but then she smiled. “Thank you,” she called out. “I have a problem with my temper sometimes.”
Again, laughter came from the shadows. Not like a person standing next to her laughing, but as if it were playing on a radio or a television set that was left on in an abandoned room somewhere below where she was standing. The laughter sounded tinny and flat, but it had a bit of an echo behind it.
Cordelia moved over to the wall and pressed on it. A secret door! She pulled the door open and discovered a tiny room. The dust within the room was so overwhelming that it was obvious that this part of the house had remained a secret throughout the centuries. She hadn’t needed her flashlight while wandering the mansion earlier, because of the bright moonlight filtering through the large glass windows. But now she needed it in this small cloistered spot. Pulling the door closed behind her sent Cordelia into complete darkness.
Once the flashlight was lit, she moved the light around the small room to find a few beds and some old dolls. It was perfect. She lay down on one of the beds that seemed to be filled with straw. She remembered from one of the tour guides that during the American Revolution, they used to hide weapons and gunpowder in the straw of children’s beds. Cordelia felt around and realized that nothing was there.
Good , she mused, the last thing I need is to roll over and set off a shotgun .
This secret room would give her the whole next day to figure out where she was headed, and give her the rest she needed to get there. California was out. Too expensive. She had the money from Reed and Finn, but it wasn’t enough to buy her a plane ticket. Even if she had more money, she knew that her face was plastered all over the news. She’d get spotted right away at Logan Airport.
No, she needed to go someplace rural, someplace where people stayed out of each other’s business, someplace where people went when they didn’t want to be found. It was then that she thought of the person who was the cause of all this unhappiness. The man who started this game and didn’t stick around to finish it. He had disappeared and started a whole new life, letting the rest of his family pick up the broken and jagged pieces of their lives.
Malcolm Crane. The father she’d never met.
Just before she finally drifted off to sleep, allowing her aching muscles and sore, swollen arms and legs to sink into the old-fashioned bed, her mind raced with plans, filling her body with an overwhelming sense of excitement.
She would hunt Daddy Malcolm down in Maine. It would be easy enough to stay out of sight once she got out of Massachusetts. And once she found out exactly where he lived now, it was only a matter of figuring out how to get there. Cordelia didn’t know what she’d do when she found her deadbeat dad, but she knew one thing: he would pay for his mistakes. Cordelia would see to that.
Cordelia slept all day and into the evening. The cold fall night fell all around her. She heard someone whispering her name and she woke up with a start.
Gently easing the door open, Cordelia was pleased that no one had discovered her hiding spot. She knew she could return here if she needed a place to crash. As she made her way down the grand staircase, she turned when she heard a whooshing sound coming from above. She saw a twirl of skirt as it went around the corner. Her guardian spirits had kept watch over her.
“Thank you,” Cordelia whispered into the dark hallway, noticing that her breath suddenly turned to smoke. As the chill went through her, she knew that she would be welcomed back any time she chose to return.
Luckily she had found an oversized flannel jacket and baseball cap in the caretaker’s closet at the Jeremiah Lee. Before she left the mansion, she caught sight of herself in an age-crackled mirror. Her hair had been hacked off in clumps and burnt in sections out on Misery Island. She ran to the
Again, laughter came from the shadows. Not like a person standing next to her laughing, but as if it were playing on a radio or a television set that was left on in an abandoned room somewhere below where she was standing. The laughter sounded tinny and flat, but it had a bit of an echo behind it.
Cordelia moved over to the wall and pressed on it. A secret door! She pulled the door open and discovered a tiny room. The dust within the room was so overwhelming that it was obvious that this part of the house had remained a secret throughout the centuries. She hadn’t needed her flashlight while wandering the mansion earlier, because of the bright moonlight filtering through the large glass windows. But now she needed it in this small cloistered spot. Pulling the door closed behind her sent Cordelia into complete darkness.
Once the flashlight was lit, she moved the light around the small room to find a few beds and some old dolls. It was perfect. She lay down on one of the beds that seemed to be filled with straw. She remembered from one of the tour guides that during the American Revolution, they used to hide weapons and gunpowder in the straw of children’s beds. Cordelia felt around and realized that nothing was there.
Good , she mused, the last thing I need is to roll over and set off a shotgun .
This secret room would give her the whole next day to figure out where she was headed, and give her the rest she needed to get there. California was out. Too expensive. She had the money from Reed and Finn, but it wasn’t enough to buy her a plane ticket. Even if she had more money, she knew that her face was plastered all over the news. She’d get spotted right away at Logan Airport.
No, she needed to go someplace rural, someplace where people stayed out of each other’s business, someplace where people went when they didn’t want to be found. It was then that she thought of the person who was the cause of all this unhappiness. The man who started this game and didn’t stick around to finish it. He had disappeared and started a whole new life, letting the rest of his family pick up the broken and jagged pieces of their lives.
Malcolm Crane. The father she’d never met.
Just before she finally drifted off to sleep, allowing her aching muscles and sore, swollen arms and legs to sink into the old-fashioned bed, her mind raced with plans, filling her body with an overwhelming sense of excitement.
She would hunt Daddy Malcolm down in Maine. It would be easy enough to stay out of sight once she got out of Massachusetts. And once she found out exactly where he lived now, it was only a matter of figuring out how to get there. Cordelia didn’t know what she’d do when she found her deadbeat dad, but she knew one thing: he would pay for his mistakes. Cordelia would see to that.
Cordelia slept all day and into the evening. The cold fall night fell all around her. She heard someone whispering her name and she woke up with a start.
Gently easing the door open, Cordelia was pleased that no one had discovered her hiding spot. She knew she could return here if she needed a place to crash. As she made her way down the grand staircase, she turned when she heard a whooshing sound coming from above. She saw a twirl of skirt as it went around the corner. Her guardian spirits had kept watch over her.
“Thank you,” Cordelia whispered into the dark hallway, noticing that her breath suddenly turned to smoke. As the chill went through her, she knew that she would be welcomed back any time she chose to return.
Luckily she had found an oversized flannel jacket and baseball cap in the caretaker’s closet at the Jeremiah Lee. Before she left the mansion, she caught sight of herself in an age-crackled mirror. Her hair had been hacked off in clumps and burnt in sections out on Misery Island. She ran to the
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