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I was so going back there tomorrow. There was no way I was going to let him take everything. The deserted house was fair game, and I wasn’t going to give up until I found my grandfather’s loot and my own version of pirate booty.

The only reason I’d come to the library was for the open house event, hoping I could find information about my dreams, maybe the land the mansion was on, and perhaps some rare books about magic. But now, I knew I had other priorities after seeing him here.

If Kiam was out and about, he wouldn’t be at that house.

* * *

While I drove to the rest stop parking lot, my mind had a chance to clear, and it struck me how I’d just expected to find Kiam there at the mansion. Like he belonged there or something.

I’d only seen him once. The other times, I was sleeping and dreaming. So, why did I automatically assume he would be there?

Probably because I secretly hoped he would be. Okay, maybe not that much of a secret, but I was trying really, really hard not to dwell on it. I would just keep telling myself I didn’t want him there because then I could take whatever I wanted.

Admitting I wanted to know what it was like to be manhandled by him in real life was simply too much. What if he didn’t like me like that? Sure, his dream character was enthusiastic, but that was just a dream.

It’d been a while since I’d dated or had much of anything to do with a man. I was out of practice. It wasn’t like middle school where I could have a friend watch me walk past some guy and then report back to me if he was checking me out or not.

When I shook my head to rid myself of the embarrassing thoughts, my car passed over the double-yellow lines for a brief second, and an oncoming pick-up truck laid on their horn and gave me the finger.

If I kept this up, I wouldn’t have to worry about deserted mansions or men anymore.

With a sigh, I turned up the radio and pulled into the parking lot. I sat there for a minute, parked, letting the loud music wash away my errant thoughts while I tried to focus on my mission.

Get my family heirlooms.

Beat Kiam to the mansion.

Find cool shit.

Don’t get lost.

After I shut my car off, I grabbed my backpack before heading across the asphalt and into the woods.

The thick, green brush typical of New England closed behind me as I ducked into the cool, fragrant cover of the woods. The first hundred yards or so of the path was dimly lit until the trees thinned out, and sunlight streamed down in patches over loamy dirt.

Whenever I got to these sunny spots, I would focus on the forest floor. Depending on the time of day and the season, the angle of light could expose details I’d previously overlooked. Due to all the rocks and tree roots, it was good to watch your steps, but I did it with other intentions.

Some reflective materials turned out to be the edge of a rusted beer can, and others were mica stuck to a chunk of quartz. My heart sank, just like it always did.

This was a fool’s quest, right? A voice in the back of my mind would whisper words of discouragement, telling me to “give it up already,” but I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried. You’d think at this point, I would have stopped. But, no.

My life wasn’t spectacular by any means, but I could find and protect my grandpa’s precious items, if nothing else. It wouldn’t change the world, but I knew he’d be proud of me.

After stopping to sip some water, I scanned the trees and glanced down at the GPS map on my phone. I wasn’t far from my destination. As if to signal that fact, a flock of crows descended through the treetops, squawking and flapping their wings.

“Hello, crows,” I said, turning in a circle. I was surrounded.

Of course, they did nothing but stare at me. I waved at them like the weirdo I was and tucked my water bottle away before trekking on.

As I headed toward the mansion, I almost stumbled over my own two feet. What if the house was locked? It should be, right? It wasn’t like I could break a window and climb through; that would screw up a perfectly preserved historical site—assuming it was important. It sure looked it.

What was I supposed to do if I went to all the effort to climb over the giant barrier and then I couldn’t get inside?

I tossed my backpack on the ground, scaring a tiny toad that hopped away, and rifled through the bag. I had a small screwdriver, some bobby pins, and the broken barrette I originally mistook for a necklace fragment. Hopefully, I could become a lockpicker with these items, if push came to shove.

Speaking of shoving—I had no doubt I would try to force the door open. It was an old house; maybe a well-placed kick would force it open.

How was Kiam getting in? Maybe a window was unlocked, or there was some other way to gain access.