We followed Mr. Sterling in the corridor. "These are portraits of our family."
"If you don't mind my saying... this guy bears a resemblance to Dracula."
"Dad!"
"No- I like your eye, Paul. We think so, too. The artist was watching too manyBela Lugosi movies when they sat down for that one."
"Alexander, would you mind going upstairs and taking over the tour? I hope I'm not being rude-I'd just like to make sure everything is in order," Mrs. Sterling said.
Order?What did that mean? What was Mrs. Sterling planning on serving us?
We followed Alexander up the red velvet stairs. The corridor was long, cold, and devoid of modern material possessions. "This is the library and these are bedrooms," Alexander explained.
My dad poked his head into the library while my mom checked out the bathroom. Antique fixtures adorned the massive room. I noticed her trying to find something.
"This is a quick tour," I said. "We're not moving in."
"I wanted to check my lipstick," she said. "But there's no mirror."
"Your makeup is fine."
"Wow- there are a lot of bedrooms," my dad said as he poked his head in each one.
"This is Jameson's room," Alexander said, showing us the butler's quarters, with its single bed and dresser, "And this is my parents'."
Mr. and Mrs. Sterling's door was slightly ajar. We could see a vanity dresser topped with assorted makeup and with a frame attached, missing its mirror. My mom peered in, brushing against the door. It opened to reveal the side of a coffin.
My mom gasped.
"What's wrong?" my dad asked, standing behind me.
My mother turned ghost white."Nothing. I just thought I saw something, that's all. It must have been the lighting."
Alexander shut his parents' door. "I forgot. Jameson didn't get to clean it and if it isn't perfect..."
"We understand. I wouldn't want to give a tour of our house anytime soon," I said.
"Those stairs lead to my attic room, but I wasn't expecting-"
"I think we should help your mother," my mom said hurriedly.
Alexander and my dad talked about the Mansion as my mother pulled me to the side. "I saw a coffin in the bedroom."
"Mom.Do you really believe Mr. or Mrs. Sterling would sleep in a coffin?"
She paused. Then she let out a laugh.
"I'm sorry,Raven . This house is kind of spooky. I guess I just got caught up in it. You're right. It must have been a chest of some sort."
"Duh!You think I'd date someone whose mother slept in a coffin?"
"Well...," she said, with another laugh.
"Let's hurry up before they think we're snooping," I said.
We found Mr. and Mrs. Sterling setting out napkins on the coffee table in the living room.
"Your home is very... historic," my mother said.