Lucy looks like Dad, with black hair and fair skin, I favor Mom. Our skin has a natural, year-round tan and our eyes are the same baby blue. My hair, though, is the original sandy-blond instead of her salon-bought platinum.
I’m tall, close to six feet and so is Mom. She was a volleyball player in high school and college. No volleyball for me, I’m a swimmer like Dad. A good one, too. If I can keep up my grades, my coach is convinced I’m on track for a state title.
“Are you sure you should be handling all these boxes with your arm?” Mom asks. It’s the hundredth time she’s asked this question in the past two weeks.
“The doctor went a week over to be safe, so I’m good.”
“You’re such a great kid. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Our landlord and his daughter live on the second and third floors, but they won’t disturb us. They have their own entrance. I think the daughter goes to school with you.”
My head snaps up as this is the first time I’ve heard this part. “Who?”
Mom waggles her eyebrows. “Why? Thinking of having some late-night trysts?”
No. I don’t like the idea of anyone from school having a bird’s-eye view of my life, but saying that to Mom will only make her fish for an explanation. Mom laughs as she takes my noncommittal silence as an affirmative. She’s always on the search for me to be her version of normal.
“Hannah helped me find this place. She said that Sylvia said that the girl who lives here isn’t someone you all associate with.” Hannah’s a Realtor and one of Mom’s best friends, and Sylvia is Hannah’s daughter. Besides Miguel, Sylvia’s one of my closest friends.
“Hannah also said that the man who owns the house is super nice. He travels a lot for his job, but is fantastic to his tenants.”
“If Hannah said it, then it must be true,” I mumble. Because of her job, Hannah knows more about most people than should be allowed, and happily dumps all the personal info she learns about her clients by the first round of drinks.
Mom ignores my comment, which is probably better for both of us. “By the way, I told Sylvia you’d invite her over to see the place once we unpack the boxes. Maybe you should take her out to dinner when you bring her over. Maybe a movie, too. I’ll pay.”
“Like a date?” I overly raise my brows in the hopes Mom might think before she speaks.
“Sylvia is a nice girl, and she thinks the world of you. Maybe you two could be more than friends.”
“She prefers girls.”
With a sigh, Mom drops the subject. “Ready to head in?”
Not really. “Sure.”
Mom calls Lucy, and she races up the steps of the porch that need to be sanded down and stained. A few pushes into the electronic key lock and we’re past the first door and into the foyer. We walk past the flowing staircase to another door with another electronic key lock. Mom has to check her texts to unlock this one and when she opens it, it’s like the house exhales, and not in a good way.
The air is stale, the inside dark and when we walk in, I swear it’s somehow darker. Lucy grabs on to my hand with both of hers and hides behind me. I turn on the ancient light switch with a loud thwack and a single overhead lightbulb flickers to life. The room has a dull haze now, like a slasher movie, and I’m betting Mom wishes she had done that walk-through.
“We need to open some windows,” Mom says, but there aren’t any windows in the living room as the bedrooms, kitchen and bathroom line the walls. “Lucy, come with me and we’ll start in the kitchen. Sawyer, check out the bedrooms for us.”
Translation—your sister and I are heading to the room with an exit while you check the bedrooms to see if there’s a serial killer in the wings. I agree because I take care of my mom and sister, protect them, that’s my job.
I inspect the right part of the house first. The area on the other side of the stairway is walled in. That area contains a bathroom and a big bedroom, which I assume will be Mom’s. I re-enter the living room and check the small room running along the left side of the house. Maybe it was meant to be an in-home office.