Nightfall (Devil's Night #4) - Penelope Douglas Page 0,97

some more, turning the handle, but it wouldn’t open. I spun around, looking left and then right, spotting one more door at the top of the stairs.

Holding up my flashlight, I climbed to the top, felt for the lock and stuck the key in, the click giving way as soon as I turned the key.

Butterflies swarmed in my stomach, and I hesitated for a moment, smiling.

I’d found it.

There could be someone in there, but I pressed forward, opening the door and finding my way with the flashlight. But as soon as I opened it, light swarmed me immediately. I stepped into a room, rafters coming up through the floor and stretching all the way to the ceiling, and I looked around at the windows and the sunshine falling across the floor.

What was this?

I turned off my phone, dropped that and the key into my pocket, and softly closed the door behind me.

Trunks and boxes laid about the perimeter of the room, underneath the windows, and I saw old church paraphernalia strewn here and there—altar cloths, candle holders, and those things that hold holy water… There was even a set of doors that looked like the ones downstairs for the confessionals.

I walked farther into the room, but I stopped, my eyes locking on the bed.

White comforter, white sheets on the pillows—everything looking clean and crisp and big enough for ten.

What the hell?

Then I dropped my gaze, seeing a scrap of paper on the comforter. I walked over and picked it up, the fresh scent of the linens making my nostrils tingle.

I read the note, the paper yellowed and nearly falling apart at the creases where it had been folded a thousand times.

It’s yours now. Use it well.

No one else knows, do not tell.

When you’re done, pass it on.

The Carfax Room hides us

from what we want gone.

I read it again, but I still didn’t get it.

“The Carfax Room?” I said to myself.

The writing was in black cursive, a little faded, and I folded it up, sticking it in my pocket.

This was silly. Someone gave me a key to a room, didn’t explain why, and I had no idea if I was the only one who had access to it.

I got some of the message. Keep the room a secret, but how did it hide me exactly? And obviously someone else knew about it, because someone gave me the key.

And if it was something I passed on to someone else, then the person who gave it to me got it from someone else too, right?

Why me?

I drifted around the room, picking through boxes that contained everything from lamps and tools to clothes, costumes, and theater makeup. I stepped slowly and then spotted something that caught my eye. Hesitating, I moved toward a trunk on the floor and pulled out a pink dress, strapless and fluffy with a tulle skirt underneath.

I smiled, loving the fifties style of it. Trim waist, little roses in the pattern, the kind of Pepto Bismol pink that was in fashion decades ago… Why was this here?

I guess it wasn’t so odd. There was also a top hat and a waffle iron in one of the crates.

Oh, the stories this room could probably tell.

I laid it back in the trunk, folding it gently and closing the lid before walking to the bed and lifting a pillow to my nose.

It smelled clean, like detergent and spring. There was a record player with some records nearby and candles on the nightstand.

There was no way I’d stay here, not knowing anything about this place or whether or not anyone else had a key, but it was kind of cool. Another nook. Another cranny.

Another story.

Taking one last look around, I left, locking the room again and leaving so as not to press my luck. For all I knew, this was Father Behr’s secret place to be the real him and that dress was his.

Clutching my bag, I jogged down the stairwell, slipped the key into my pocket, and stepped into the gallery, closing the door behind me.

I’d missed three classes, but if I hurried, I’d make the fourth.

Taking the stairs, I walked through the church and out the doors, taking the path to the street and turning right. Leaves rustled in the trees, yellows, oranges, and reds fluttering to the ground, and a drop of cool rain hit my cheek. I breathed in the autumn breeze, the key light in my pocket.

Do not tell.

Part of me thought this was a prank. Otherwise, I would’ve