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WeddingBelle: Hi, everyone. Sorry in advance for the blurry photo quality—I could only take a pic from a distance! Anyway, I drove past this farm yesterday. According to the sign at the gate, it’s called Crimson Hollow Estate, and it’s about halfway between Vanderwild Bay and Rowley on McAllister Drive. I had to stop and take a proper look when I saw the mansion there because it’s GORGEOUS. Does anyone here know if the place is available as a wedding venue? I googled the name and there’s not much information. Just a shop website and an Instagram page showing some of the stuff they sell at local markets. I would LOVE to get married at such an amazing location, so if anyone knows anything (or happens to know the owners) that would be so helpful!
Narelle81: Ooh, I know the place. I don’t live in MA anymore but I used to drive past it on my way to my sister’s place in Rowley. It’s so beautiful. Apparently it has the biggest cranberry bog in the state, so most of the area around it looks red from a distance. That’s where the name comes from, I believe. I’ve never heard of anyone hosting an event there, but I’ll ask my sister. She still lives in Rowley so she might know.
Mamabear333: @WeddingBelle Don’t bother hon! The owners are cray-cray! I saw that beautiful mansion and had the same idea as you (only I wanted to see if it was available for a weekend stay, like an Airbnb). I drove up to the gate and pressed the buzzer to see if I could talk to the owner. Some guy came speeding down the driveway in a truck and told me to leave or else I’d be arrested for trespassing. He wouldn’t even let me get a word in! So I’m guessing it’s a NO on the Airbnb/venue hire option, haha. Sorry babe!
Clearyclaire: Um hello Mamabear what did you expect? It’s private land. I wouldn’t want random people showing up at my house either!
Fallon89: @WeddingBelle you could try for something closer to Vanderwild Bay. There are some wonderful old properties there that are available as venues. My cousin recently got married at an estate on Cliffside Drive. The mansion there looks quite similar to the one in your pic. I’ll PM you a couple of her wedding pics so you can see!
Yvettexox: I know of this Crimson Hollow place, and also had quite a negative experience with it. I was driving through the area and pulled over because I recognized the name of the farm from some delicious jams I bought at a market. A worker was right near the fence, so I walked up to him and asked if I could come in and see where everything is made, just out of curiosity. He said no, because they’ve had unruly visitors in the past, so they no longer allow it.
I asked if he’d be willing to make an exception for me, but he refused and actually seemed quite annoyed by my request. I told him I understood, but on the inside I was thinking ‘Really???’. I am clearly not some sort of hooligan who would cause trouble. I am a middle-aged lady and am barely five feet tall! But it seems their rule really is for everyone. No visitors at all.
Clearyclaire: Oh dear, you sound very entitled. Property owners are allowed their privacy. I’m not surprised they said no to you and refused to cave.
Yvettexox: I can see how my previous post may have made me sound entitled but I promise you I am not. I was just in the area and thought I might be able to pop in and see where all the lovely jams are made. I had no idea they don’t allow visitors. I thought they might because the girls who ran the stall at the markets were so friendly and welcoming. I assumed the owners would be the same. Alas I was wrong. Oh well, you live and learn…
William’sGurl: Oh my gosh, this is such a wild coincidence! I used to live on the property right next door to this farm! I actually know exactly why they’re so private.
My car broke down on the way home one day, and I was quite close to their gate. I buzzed them and asked for help, and one of the farm workers arrived a moment later to fix my car. A woman came with him and kept me company while he tinkered with the engine. She never actually said she was the owner, but I made the assumption based on her appearance. Very well-dressed and classy. She seemed a little standoffish and reserved at first, but we still had a nice chat.
I told her I lived next door and mentioned that I’d noticed all the security cameras along the fence lines. I asked why because I’d always thought it was a bit weird—there’s no crime in that area! At least I never experienced any while I was there. But she told me such a sad story.
Apparently a long time ago, one of their competitors sneaked onto the property and tried to poison the cranberry bog. They also set fire to the vineyards. Since then, they’ve been extremely security-conscious and don’t allow visitors at all.
It’s such a shame because it really is such a lovely property. They could host all sorts of events like weddings, parties, luncheons, even wine tastings. But they’ve closed off, all because of one bad apple.
I closed the forum page and leaned back in my chair, hands lacing behind my head. The posts in the thread had made one thing very clear to me—Crimson Hollow Estate was loaded with security measures. That meant it would be impossible for me to simply sneak onto the land in the dead of the night and look around to see where they were keeping Amerie.
Thankfully, I still had one trick left up my sleeve…
Amerie
With a deep, lethargic sigh, I looked out the window, watching as the world moved without me. Farm workers were walking by, going about their day like everything in this place was totally normal.
I longed to be free like them, coming and going and experiencing the real world as they pleased, instead of being trapped in this room feeling sick and alone, but that was no longer an option for me. The Rosmerta Society had stripped me of that right when I was only four years old.
I didn’t want to accept it, but I could feel my mind slowly adjusting to my new reality anyway. The first two nights I was here, I tossed and turned, picturing Jensen bursting through the window to save me. By the third night, I lay still, realizing that my fantasies were futile.
Jensen wasn’t coming.
I knew he desperately wanted to find me and save me—that was never in question in my mind—but the society would never allow it to happen. They were too big. Too powerful. One person could never be the cause of their downfall. Even two or three people couldn’t handle it. I’d simply been delusional all these weeks, thinking Jensen and I could actually pull it off.
The only glimmer of hope I had left was the possibility of him becoming a third-degree society member when he turned twenty-one. He’d learn all the society’s secrets then, so he might be able to come and visit me here at the Playground. Even if rescue wasn’t an option due to the sheer impossibility of it all, we could still be together for a while.
I wondered how many babies I would’ve given birth to by then. Two? Three? Maybe even more if my next pregnancy ended up being twins?
I also wondered what sort of person Jensen would have to become, or at least pretend to become, to officially reach the third degree a few years from now. Some second-degree members were trusted enough by the society to have every secret revealed to them at a very young age—like Piper and her friends—but no one had ever filled Jensen in on any of it. Clearly, there was something about him that the higher-ranking members didn’t quite know or trust just yet, and they weren’t willing to show their cards to him until he passed some sort of test in their minds.
I had no idea if and when that would happen… but for now, I knew what I had to do. I needed to accept the very real possibility that I might never be with Jensen again. I could see him in my mind’s eye and every single dream I had at night, but I would probably never see him in person again. Never feel his touch on my skin again. Never feel his strong arms wrapped around me, spinning and guiding me toward the bed as his lips devoured mine.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I ripped my gaze away from the window, trying to find a distraction for myself.
I was sitting in the Playground’s art studio; one of the only places I’d bothered to visit since my arrival. It was a spacious room filled with easels, canvases, desks, and all sorts of art supplies. The walls were adorned with paintings and drawings, and the air was thick with the scent of paint and creativity.
In the center of the room, a woman sat at an easel, paintbrush in one hand and a palette in the other. She was deeply absorbed in her work, eyes fixed on the canvas before her. Surrounding her were several other women, all of them sitting in chairs and observing her work. They were in various stages of pregnancy, from barely-showing to heavily pregnant.
I was never good at art or even particularly interested in it, but I’d already spent many hours in this room because it was the closest link I’d found to the real world. It looked a lot like the art classroom at my old school in Howland, so if I let my gaze go out of focus just a bit, I could pretend I was right back there again, long before I knew the truth about my father and the Rosmerta Society. I could imagine that the woman in the center of the room was Shania, working on one of her projects, and the women around her were our friends and peers.
