Birdseed, potting soil, and…“Alligator feed?” she read the label out loud.Ask later.She closed the closet door. She hadn’timagined the inn would have so many supply closets. “Where are you, broom?”
She approached the next closet, a narrow and tall one, and opened the door. Inside, it was as black as a moonless night. Wind slammed into her face, and she heard a howling scream.
Calisa clapped her hands over her ears.
A wrinkled hand slammed the closet door shut in front of her, and she staggered back to see Auntie Zee glaring at her.
“Broom?” Calisa squeaked.
“I’m far too old for this,” Auntie Zee grumbled.
A second later, Auntie Zee opened the same closet door to reveal a perfectly ordinary broom closet with a variety of brooms, mops, and sponges. Calisa realized she’d hung back, in case it was the howling darkness again. “Before—when I opened it…”
“You’re tired. You had a long journey.”
“Yes, but—”
“It’s a broom closet.”
Of course it was, but—
“First rule of the Faraway Inn: don’t open doors without permission,” Auntie Zee said. “Ever.” Muttering to herself, she selected a broom and shoved it at Calisa before she began waddling away toward the kitchen.
Calisa grabbed it before it fell. “What are the other rules?”
From the kitchen doorway, Auntie Zee looked back at her. “Other rules?”
“You said that was the first rule. What are the others?”
Auntie Zee snorted. “Only one other rule.”
“What’s that?” Calisa asked. It would be better to know right from the beginning, so she didn’t make any more mistakes. She only had three days to do everything right, make herself useful, and convince Auntie Zee to let her stay, as well as possibly figure out what on earth she’d just seen (and heard) inside that closet, which she didn’tthinkhad been caused by her overtired mind or her overactive imagination…except it must have been, because the closet clearly held cleaning supplies. The broom in her hand, solid and ordinary, was proof of that. “Auntie Zee, what’s the one other rule?”
“Don’t ask questions.”
Chapter Four
Calisa walked outside with the broom in her hand and stood on the porch. She stared out at the jumble of weeds and brambles, the pine tree forest, and the winding road that led away from the bed-and-breakfast. The sun had set at some point while they were repairing the porch, and now dusk lay like a gray cloth over everything, muting the colors and deepening the shadows.
What had just happened?
I imagined it.
Or there was a malfunctioning light bulb that had flickered at just the wrong moment while the wind howled outside. Yes, that was much more plausible than her brain suddenly deciding to present her with a gaping void where a broom closet was supposed to be.
“Calisa?”
Except Auntie Zee’s reaction had been so over-the-top thatit made Calisa feel like she must have experienced some kind of unusual—
“Hey? Calisa?” A hand landed on her shoulder, and Calisa yelped and spun, brandishing the broom like a sword. Jack jumped backward. He held his hands up in surrender. “You, um, want me to sweep the sawdust?”
Calisa felt herself blush. “Oh! Sorry! No, I can do it.” She began to sweep, smacking the new boards with the bristles with more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary. Sawdust billowed into a cloud around her ankles. She was aware that he was watching her, and she wondered if she looked as unsettled as she felt. “The closet in the hallway…” She trailed off, not knowing how to complete that sentence in any way that made sense.
“Ah, you opened a door.”
Calisa halted mid-sweep. “Yes. What did—”
“This place has old wiring. Sometimes if you open a closet too quickly, you hear creaks. Groans. Weird light stuff. Old houses get quirky over time, my dad says.” He shrugged, as if that was an explanation, and maybe it was. It had only been a fraction of a second before Auntie Zee had slammed the door shut.
