Page 19 of Glasshouses

The other three rooms had less damage but were smaller. They were on the side of the house where the fire hadn’t taken so much of a hold, because while the kitchen had been gutted, the rooms above hadn’t taken as much of a hit. One of the three rooms was storage, and it was still full of papers and photographs. He’d never really explored it before and didn’t have time now, because he knew that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to leave it. That would also be a really good extra part; his subscribers would be keen to view that one, so he might make it subscribers only.

Another room had been an office, no computers, which was weird, even for back then, however long it had been. There were old bits of stationery piled up on a desk that didn’t really go with the rest of the house. He went in there, holding his phone, showing what he was looking through. Things like this were catnip for the Urb Ex community, wanting to know what secrets people had left behind.

The last room on this floor was locked, the key long since missing. He pushed on the door, wanting to see if it’d give, even with his feeble weight. He took a couple of steps back, hoping physics would help and this time he felt movement. The wood of the frame was rotten, that much was obvious, so he tried again and this time his weight and bravery were enough to shove the door open and he stumbled at speed into an empty space.

Nothing.

Not even a hair tie or a pencil.

This was weird. He’d been in dozens of abandoned properties and there was always something left. An empty room like this was freaking weird.

It had unnerved him. For a moment, he froze, unsure of how safe he was up there and feeling for the first time like he was being watched. Moving slowly and silently he headed back to the stairs, pausing every couple of steps, looking around him. No one else had been on the top floor, but that didn’t mean someone hadn’t entered the building after him.

He needed to get out.

Speeding up, he made his way right down to the ground floor, listening like a hawk and hearing nothing except for his own footsteps and the sound of his heart thundering in his chest. Then there was a dash to the kitchen and out of the back door.

Then he ran and ran and ran.

Chapter Eight

We took a detour on our way to Amanda’s house, one that involved driving past my house and slowing down as we approached. I fully expected one of the neighbours to take a note of the registration and put it on the local social media page, thinking we were casing out the place, but we weren’t.

I just wanted to see if there was a strange man on my roof.

There were, in fact, three strange men on the roof, the strangest one I recognised because he had the shortest hair and a stance I knew, I didn’t think too much about why I recognised it so easily.

“Mia, why are we scoping out your house?” Verity had been quiet on the journey here, other than a few questions about the case.

“You see those people on the roof?”

“Yep. Are they meant to be there?” She rubbernecked around me to see better.

“I’m not sure. I think I’ll go and check.” I was out of the car before she could finish her sentence that had something to do with scaffolding and hard hats.

It took me another thirty seconds to get onto the roof, not letting myself think about the height. I’d been a gymnast when I was at school, and good balance and co-ordination gave me too much confidence in things like this.

“Mia. Why are you up here?” Atlas folded his arms and tried to look menacing.

“It’s my roof. I have no one to sue if I fall. Why are you up here?” I mimicked his pose.

“We won’t be falling and I said I’d fix your roof, which we’ve done.”

I looked at the other two who were clearing bits up. One was his brother who’d been in a suit yesterday. Maybe he’d been in court.

“You’ve fixed the roof?”

“Yep. The valley there,” he pointed to the dip in the roof between two chimneys, “needed to be cleared and new flashing put on. We’ve done it in the other areas as well and replaced a few slates. It’s done now though; you should be leak free.”

I bit my lips together, totally unsure of what to say.

“Thank you.” My foster mum taught me some manners. “You need to let me know what I owe you.”

“I’ll drop you an email with how much the materials cost. You don’t owe us for labour. It’s been worth it for the bonding experience.” He looked at his brother.

“Don’t tempt me to push you off.”

“You realise you’re threatening me in front of a cop?” Atlas looked amused.