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A sharp knock at the door and it opened. I jerked my head up as Mrs. Reid walked straight in, humming softly. She stopped suddenly. Her eyes widening as she found me. Her gaze went from my eyes, to the cell in my hand.

“Oh, Goodness. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

I dropped my hand, pushing the cell behind me. “Not at all.”

She moved, carrying fresh towels into the bathroom and returned in an instant. But she didn’t leave. Just… hovered.

“I hate to ask,” she started.

“Mrs. Reid,” I stepped forward. “You know you can ask me anything.”

She lifted her gaze to mine. “The north wing has water damage and Mr. Reid is still overseeing our roof.”

I pushed up my sleeves. “Put me to work…” I glanced at the door, then turned back. “No seriously. I could do with the distraction.”

She hesitated, then gave a nod. “Okay, give me a minute and I’ll meet you in the corridor.”

I gave a weak smile, then nodded before she turned and left. But it was the thud of the door that gripped me. Had Alaric left? I didn’t see the car drive past.

No.

He was still here.

Hurting.

I slipped my cell into my pocket and left, heading for the north wing. The walls were still streaked with water. It dripped from the ceiling and ran to the floor. It seemed like this part of the house endured the worst of the damage.

“Right,” Mrs. Reid announced herself.

I jerked around, finding her soft smile. “I haven’t been in this wing before.”

She reached into her pocket for a set of ancient looking keys. “No one does, honey.”

She unlocked a door and pushed it inward. Dust-choked air billowed out. I swallowed, coughed and tried to breathe, then followed her inside.

Dust.

Furniture hidden under sheets.

Old portraits hung from the walls. One had crashed to the floor… who knew when that’d happened. I moved deeper into the room. My eyes adjusted to the gloom now, bringing more into focus. A closed door on the other side of the room. Locked no doubt.

A wall of books. It looked just like the library… only this was different.

I neared the spines and reached out.

“Mr. Voss hasn’t had much reason to come down this way,” Mrs. Reid said behind me.

But I wasn’t listening. I pulled out a book. The cover damp. I opened it and the pages fell out in a clump, hitting the floor at my feet.

I jerked my gaze to Mrs. Reid. “I’m sorry. I…”

“It’s okay, honey,” her voice softened. “It’s old… and ruined.”

Ruined?

My throat tightened as I turned back to the empty cover.

The Little Wren Who Found Spring.