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“Really?”
“Yeah, and the demolition guys took their machine away a few days ago. So something happened, but no one really knows what. I heard Anderson’s been staying at a hotel, but he hasn’t told anyone anything about what’s going on.”
“I…” My lungs were made of lead. That was the only explanation for why it was so hard to pull in a breath. “When did you find all this out?”
“About a week ago. I’ve been keeping an eye on things,” Abigail admitted. “But I didn’t want to tell you anything and get your hopes up in case…”
“So why tell me now?”
“Well, Vinnie Sanders came into the Magnolia Café this morning, and Sophie overheard him talking on the phone about the demolition contractor throwing a fit. And he said Anderson would pay him for his time, but he doubted the contractor would ever do business with him again. Obviously she only heard one side of the conversation, but she said it sounded like the demo was off. Like, completely.”
My hands had gone cold. I tried to move my fingers, but they reacted slowly, like I’d been caught in a snowstorm and was minutes away from hypothermia. A weight pressed down on my chest, to the point that I worried my chair would collapse out from under me.
“I need to get over there.” I stood so fast I needed to lean on the desk until creeping blackness cleared from my vision.
“Want me to come? Me and Sophie? Moral support?”
“No.” I shook my head, sending my hair trembling against my shoulders. If I fell apart at the sight of Radcliffe House, I wanted to do it alone.
“Okay,” Abigail said quietly as she stood. “Sophie and I will pick up pizza and come back here just in case. Call us if you need anything, Charlie. Anything. I mean it.”
She hugged me, and a small piece of my heart knitted itself back together. My friendship with Abigail and Sophie was like one tiny root that had survived the violent storm I’d just endured. Wrapping my arms around one of my two best friends, I reminded myself that I still belonged here, no matter what had happened to the house I’d once called home.
My palms were clammy as I started my car. I had to blink to clear my vision as I prepared to drive, taking long, slow breaths to calm myself. Nothing was certain. The rumors were just rumors. Maybe there’d been a problem on site, and this was just some hiccup. There were other demolition contractors in Virginia. Sebastian most likely hadn’t changed his mind. The house might still have been on death row. I needed to be prepared for that.
Despite my best intentions, hope burrowed deep into my heart and made a home there. Shallow breaths panted in and out of me as I drove across town, down those familiar streets that would lead me home.
The sun was setting when I arrived. It painted the sky in a wash of pastels and caused the neat rows of the vineyard beyond the house to glow under warm gold light. If I’d still lived in the house, I would have sat in the bathtub, rested my head on its rolled edge, and watched the light fade over the vines until my skin puckered.
But I didn’t live there. I had to remind myself of it. I lived nowhere—not until I found somewhere new.
Still, as I parked Ted on the street and looked at the scaffold and shade cloth obscuring my view of the Second Empire beauty, my throat tightened. It was still there, behind its funeral shroud.
And Sebastian’s car was here too.
With an erratic pulse, I climbed out of my car and stood on the sidewalk, tracing what I could see of the house with my gaze. It didn’t mean he’d changed his mind. Every inch of territory I allowed this silly hope to gain would only hurt that much more when it proved to be false.
And yet. And yet.
My footsteps were hesitant as I made my way up the same path that I’d tread on thousands of times. A patch of dirt marred the grass where the Radcliffe House Apartments sign used to stand, and I tried not to let my mind spin out about what that meant, the fact that he’d removed it.
The front door was unlocked. Its hinges creaked as I pushed it open, and I stood in the lobby of the grand old home, a heavy weight sloughing off my shoulders. He hadn’t torn it down. He hadn’t destroyed this tired old gem, this precious, neglected jewel on the outskirts of New Elwood.
I couldn’t help entering with trepidation. Was this some sort of trick, a lie, a ruse? More deception to break my already broken heart?
The thought stiffened my muscles and made a ripple of tension pass through my body. Swallowing thickly, I stepped forward. The floorboards creaked and groaned under my weight, and I paused to listen to the sounds of the house.
A tap turned on, then off. My gaze lifted to Sebastian’s door.
I could run away. I could turn around, get back in my car, go back to the guest room in Abigail’s house, and I could leave whatever horrible truth he’d tell me for another time when I was stronger and braver and ready.
But the house let out another soft groan, and I found myself touching the wrinkled, stained wallpaper that lined the hallway like I could ease the building’s pain.
And I walked on.
My knuckles made a hollow noise as they rapped on his door. Time became sticky and slow, then, as I waited for him to answer. My palms were clammy and fine tremors shook through my legs and arms and stomach.
The door opened.
