Chapter 8
Another day, another apple in the face.
I awoke in the morning to find the crystal demon had reappeared again. I must have stared at it for a good ten minutes hoping I would blink, and it would disappear.
Was I going crazy?
Out of an abundance of caution, I’d pushed the heavy chaise lounge against the door before I went to bed. There was no way someone could have entered my room without waking me, and yet the apple had reappeared on my nightstand.
Had someone been in my room in the middle of the night? Gone through my things and stood next to my bed while I slept? The thought was frightening. Combined with my previous accidents—assuming we were still calling them that—it was possible someone was trying to scare me or, worse, they wanted me dead.
But what if this was all in my head? No one else had seen the mysterious figure by the pond, and my bedroom had been sealed tight. For the apple to reappear, I would have had to move it myself. At the start of this trip, I would have laughed in the face of anyone who claimed this was all a product of my imagination, but now? Now I wasn’t so sure I trusted my own actions.
After finding the offending object a second time, I decided hiding it wasn’t enough, and I tossed it out the window. It lay buried in a snowbank beneath my balcony. If the apple had shattered into a million pieces, good riddance—I was beyond caring. Cynthia could send me a bill.
The day passed uneventfully. It started to snow not long after breakfast and continued throughout the day. Thick, fluffy flakes became dense swirls of snow that were almost blinding in their ferocity.
We were stranded indoors, which was fine by me. I figured as long as I watched my footing on the stairs, I was safer than I was during any of my outside activities. No hooded figures stalking me through the woods, no arrows, and no thin layer of ice giving way beneath my feet.
Derrick took me on an official tour of the mansion, and we spent the day hiding from everyone else. It was exactly what I needed, and for a little while, I could put all the bad things out of my mind. But as night fell and the storm raged on, there was something about being trapped inside the manor that had me on edge. The shadows felt deeper. Each creak of a floorboard or whine of a door hinge sounded more ominous than during the day.
Fairwood Manor had its secrets, and the storm had locked them all inside. How long before those secrets began to spill?
“It’s your turn.”
“What?” I pulled my gaze away from the parlor window and glanced down at the chessboard.
“It’s your move,” Derrick said, wrinkling his brow. “Are you okay? You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet all day, and now you seem distracted.”
I hesitated, unsure of how to explain my restlessness. I was almost afraid if I said the words out loud, they would conjure my fears out of thin air.
“I think it’s the storm that has me spooked. The snow is really coming down out there. It’s as if it will never stop.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. Storms like this are normal in the winter here. I guess I got used to the blizzards growing up. We’ll probably get another foot or two tonight, and then it will clear out.”
I slid my rook forward and returned to staring out the window. It was a useless endeavor. The darkness only reflected the cozy scene in the parlor; I couldn’t see the storm, but I could hear it. The wind rattled the panes, and ice ticked against the glass like bony fingers.
“Checkmate.”
“Huh?”
“I won, Tessa. You left your queen vulnerable on that last move.” Derrick’s winning smile faded at my distant expression. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right? You’re not sick, are you? It’s something we need to watch for after your fall through the ice.” He leaned across the board and placed the back of his hand against my cheek, feeling for my temperature.
“I’m fine. I don’t feel sick, just tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Find any more peas under your mattress?”
“No.” I frowned. “Actually, I didn’t check this morning, so I’m not sure. Maybe there was one.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Derrick…” My words faltered as I tried to figure out the best way to explain my mood. What was I supposed to say?Your family home creeps me out. I’m scared of the snow, and, apparently, inanimate household decorations are stalking me.And then the worst thought, the one I tried to keep buried:If I don’t wake up tomorrow, it’ll be because someone inside this house killed me.
Yeah, that would go over well. Accusing his family and close friends of theoretical murder was the only thing this trip was missing.
“What is it, Tessa? You can tell me.”
I bit the inside of my cheek and shoved my suspicions aside. He wanted this trip to be perfect for me, and the truth was, I wanted the same for him, which meant avoiding all talk of potential murder. There were only three more days until we went home. I could hold out till then.
“Have you given any more thought to the promotion at the agency?”
He picked up a chess piece and rolled it between his fingers. “I’m still considering it.”
