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“Mum, something’s wrong.”
“We shouldn’t discuss it with guests at the table.”
“I think Bree’s boyfriends can handle it, Sylv,” Dad says.
“They’re not my boyfriends,” I say quickly.
“We should just tell her, Sylv,” Dad winces. “Bree deserves to know.”
They exchange another long, meaningful look.
“Tell me what?” I snap.
Mum leans back in her chair, gripping her coffee cup so tight that her knuckles are white. “Honey, we have some news. Your father and I have decided to sell Grimwood Manor.”
12
Bree
At first, the words make no sense. It’s as if my mother has suddenly started speaking Basque or ancient Akkadian. I roll the syllables over on my tongue, trying to discern their meaning.
But all too soon, reality hits me. And I’d do anything to have those few blissful moments of ignorance back.
Beside me, Ambrose goes rigid. “Would you really get rid of Grimwood?”
“It’s a funny joke, right?” Pax grabs his belly. “You pretend that you want to get rid of the old house, but actually you are going to let a camera crew from a moving picture story come in to give the place a makeover. Hahaha, so funny. You are real jokers.”
But Pax isn’t laughing with his eyes. He looks at me with such forlorn hope, as though I have the power to will my parents to change their minds.
“But…but why?” Raw panic swells into my chest.
“I didn’t expect you to be upset.” Mum reaches across the table to grab my hand, but I jerk it away.
“It’s just a lot of house for us, Bree-bug,” Dad says. “Something’s always breaking or falling off, the lights are flickering worse than ever, no matter how many hours we spend cleaning, there’s still dust everywhere, and the guests are becoming more demanding. Present company excepted.”
“The lights are fine.” I glare at Edward, who has the gumption to look suitably chastised.
“It’s not just the lights.” Mum rolls her eyes at the ceiling as she takes another sip of coffee. “Running the B&B is hard work, and we’re not getting any younger. We’d like to do other things with our lives instead of being tied to Grimdale all year round. And with your father’s Parkinson’s, it’s going to be harder for him to do the jobs that need to be done to keep this old house standing.”
“I could help,” I say. “That’s what I’ve been doing all summer. I’ve been doing perfectly fine on my own.”
“We’re not going to ask you to give up your life and move back to Grimdale permanently.” Mum’s losing patience with the conversation. She and Dad have already made this decision and she needs me to get on board. I can practically see her to-do list scrolling behind her eyes.Item 1. Tell Bree about house sale. Item 2. Cook more bacon since the enormous guy in the black t-shirt has eaten it all. Item 3. Get rid of mysterious stain on the foyer flagstones…
“So that’s it? You’re just going to sell ourhome? But it’s been in your family for generations. Your grandmother left it to you. Isn’t that stomping on her legacy, giving up on your sacred duty—”
“It’s just a house,” Mum snaps. “Grandmother Elsie trusted me to do what was best for my family. She even left instructions in the will for certain protocols she wished to follow if a sale went through.”
“It’snotjust a house.” Tears prick in the corners of my eyes. “I grew up here. All my memories are here.”
My whole life with the ghosts ishere. And there’s the little matter of Jack the Ripper and the Order of the Noble Death coming after us. I have to make sure he can’t come back, but how can I do that if we have to move?
What if I can’t figure out how to bring Edward back? What if we leave Grimdale for good? What if we go somewhere that he can’t follow?
I glance over at Edward. Dark storms brew in his eyes as he has the same thought. Pax drums his fingers on the table, his expression miserable because he can’t stab this problem away. Ambrose is barely paying attention. He’s focused on his first Living breakfast in a hundred and fifty years. His fork hovers uncertainly over his plate, but I can’t find the energy to move my limbs to help him.
“We didn’t realize you felt this way about Grimwood, Bree-bug,” Dad reaches across and squeezes Mum’s hand. “You wanted nothing more than to get away from the house and this town, and you haven’t been back here in five years. We thought you’d be—”
“Oh my gods!” Ambrose cries.
