Page 9 of Forbidden to Fall

“Don’t be surprised if all of these are gone when you do.” She popped another puff into her mouth with a wink.

The sugar shack at Carver Maple Farm was down a gravel path, a two-minute walk from the house. It was a rectangular wood building with a little cupola on the top. In winter and spring months, smoke billowed from it. The far-left side of the building was open but covered. Normally, wood was stacked to the ceiling, but it was only piled about a third of the way just now.

The key May had given me was a rusted one that I wriggled into the equally rusted lock. The maple farm had been around for even longer than Keller’s.

I stepped inside to the subtle but familiar scent of burned sugar and wood smoke. The Carver sugar shack was bigger than most I’d seen, with a large evaporator, a bottling area, and a bunch of stainless-steel tanks and barrels in the main room.

I moved past the equipment and through the door to the kitchen.

It was a large room with a long wooden table in the middle—one Mr. Carver had built by hand, if memory served. Most sugar shacks didn’t have kitchens, but the Carvers had added on to theirs with the intent to make products on-site. Mr. Carver had passed before that vision had been fulfilled.

The entire room was covered in a layer or two of dust from disuse. The floor had dried tracks of mud and dirt, with the odd crushed leaf or twig to make things interesting. Oddments and boxes and containers sat on the counters, like the room had become a storage area.

Using my phone to jot down notes, I went through the cupboards to take an inventory of what was there and what I’d need to bring or buy.

It seemed a shame to have all of this equipment sitting here unused—two large ovens, a wide stovetop with six burners, drawers and cupboards, a large sink, and plenty of prep space. In my own kitchen, I could barely turn around, much less hide in one of the cupboards.

With a nostalgic smile, I set my phone on the counter and opened the cupboard I’d hidden in so many times as a kid. No one had ever found me there. Of course, sometimes that was because they’d forgotten I was playing, but the point was I’d spent a lot of time in that cupboard.

It had seemed huge, but it was really just a broom cupboard. The latch had never quite worked, so I’d always had to hold it closed.

I smiled as a memory flashed across my mind—me holding the door shut with one hand, the other covering my mouth, which was full of maple taffy, to keep from giggling as James’s footsteps had shuffled across the cement floor in search of me.

I had to wonder if he’d really never thought to check the closet, or if he had just been too nice to spoil my delight.

I squinted at the sight of something in the bottom back corner. It looked like a leaf. Or maybe a maple taffy wrapper. I could almost see myself in there.

I hadn’t thought about this spot in years, but I had the sudden, irrational impulse to get in. To see if I could still fit.

A totally normal thing for a grown woman to do.

It might help me gauge how many flour bags could fit too, which was a practical bonus.

Crouching not to hit my head, I climbed in, turning around just as the door shut, the space went dark, and a click sounded.

I pushed on the door.

It didn’t budge.

The latch—the one that hadn’t worked since it had been installed—held tight.

Eyes wide, I reached for my phone to use my flashlight, then stilled as I realized I’d set it on the counter.

I pushed harder, but the broken latch was not only functional now, it seemed to have been upgraded to bank-vault grade.

My pulse picked up speed.

“Don’t panic,” I said to myself. It was just a cupboard, and I was a capable adult.

Pretty capable.

Probably more capable if I’d done something more than bake pastries for the past ten years.

I gave another mighty push, but there was no give.

I kicked the door, wincing at the pain in my toes. A broken toe was worth my freedom, though. I pulled back my foot again, and my heel hit the back of the cupboard. It wasn’t big enough for me to cock it back and really do damage.

I paused, trying to think.