17. Hannah
HANNAH
Iwipe dust from me and survey the older wing of the house, the part that has resisted every fresh coat of paint and every straightened floorboard.
Sunlight filters through in uneven patches, catching on the warped planks.
After my night with Alaric—his quiet presence lingers in me like a promise I'm not ready for.
Lily will be home from school soon, and I want progress to show her, not questions.
I kneel where the original foundation meets the addition my grandmother oversaw.
The boards creak differently, hollow in spots.
I pry at one with a flathead screwdriver until it lifts enough for me to shine my phone light underneath.
A narrow crawlspace opens up, just wide enough for shoulders.
I hesitate a moment before sliding in on my stomach, elbows scraping against joists.
Thick beams run the length of the space with carvings that look to have been there years—deep, deliberate lines sealed over with a crusty paste that flakes away under my fingernail.
Symbols. One repeats in a careful row: a circle bisected by a single line.
Others resemble marks I've seen in Elspeth's journals.
I snap photos from every angle, the flash harsh against the dim timbers, then ease backward until I can stand again.
I pull the latest journal from my bedside and flip to the pages where those same symbols appear. The circle and line matches one exactly. Clara mentioned old founding-era markers once, scattered through town like silent witnesses.
The front opens, Lily drops her backpack with a thud that echoes up here. "Mom? You in the creepy wing again?"
"In here," I call. She appears in the doorway, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, cheeks flushed. Her eyes scan the room and land on the journal and my dusty clothes.
"What'd you find?"
I show her the phone screen. "Symbols carved into the beams, matching the journals. This one—" I point to the circle with the line
Lily leans closer, her expression sharpening. "That's outside the schoolhouse, big as well," She straightens, brushing her hands on her jeans. "You think it's connected to whatever she was hiding?"
"I do. I'm going into town to check the other landmarks Clara mentioned. The ones tied to the founding families. You stay here, I won't be long."
She crosses her arms. "I could come. Two sets of eyes are better."
"Not today. I'd rather you keep an eye on things here. Text me if anything is off." I pull her into a quick hug. She's too observant for her own good sometimes. "I mean it, Lil. Just homework and the usual."
"Fine. But call if you need backup." Her voice stays light.
The festival was a few days ago now, and the town has cleared where it was held.
The light stretches long shadows out front.
The drive into town feels heavier than usual.
A dark sedan sits at the corner near the hardware store, engine idling.
My grip tightens on the wheel as I convince myself it's nothing.
Ben's cruiser rolls past slowly, his nod brief when our eyes meet. He's been circling more often lately.
I park near the bookstore and find Clara outside arranging a display of local history books on a small table. Her colorful scarf flutters in the breeze. She catches a glimpse of me and gives a warm smile that doesn't quite hide the worry lines around her eyes.
"Hannah, perfect timing. I was just thinking about you.
Those carvings you asked about—the founding ones.
Most of the old buildings along the original grid have them.
The schoolhouse, the old mill foundation by the creek, even a few spots in the park.
They're not decoration. Elspeth always said they pointed to agreements older than the town charter. Safe ground, she called it."
"Safe from what?" I ask.
Clara glances down the street. "She never spelled it out.
But she made sure I remembered the patterns.
If you're following her trail, start with the schoolhouse marker.
It lines up with the others in a rough triangle.
" She touches my arm lightly. "Be careful out there. Town feels a little tight these days."
I thank her and turn toward Cedar Street.
The schoolhouse is exactly as I remember it, just a little more weathered.
I examine the base where the circle and line carving shows faintly beneath layers of paint.
It matches. My pulse quickens as I snap another photo, piecing together how these marks might form a map.
"Interesting find, Hannah."
I rise slowly. Nathan stands a few feet away. His smile is pleasant, but today I feel his energy emanating differently.
"Mr. Graves. You seem to turn up wherever there's history being dug up."
He steps closer, gaze flicking to the journal. "I've been straightforward with you from the start. Your grandmother's collection is important. More than you realize. Have you found anything beneath the house? Coded markings, perhaps? Anything that might explain the recent damage?"
I shut the journal. "Elspeth's belongings aren't public property. How do you know about markings under the house? That's not information I've shared, or found."
His expression stays smooth, but something calculated flickers behind it.
"Small towns talk. And I've made it my work to understand threats to people like you and Lily.
Alaric Blackwood, for instance. He's been interfering, hasn't he?
Inserting himself into your repairs, your life.
Men like him are dangerous. They hide things.
If you keep secrets from the wrong people, Lily could pay the price. "
My blood boils, and I stare right through him while my voice stays calm, "I decide who I trust with my family's history. And I don't appreciate threats wrapped in concern. Whatever you think you're entitled to, you're not getting it from me."
Nathan's smile thins. "I'm trying to protect you both. Some truths are bigger than one old house. Bigger than whatever hold your neighbor has on you." He gestures vaguely toward the street. "Look around. Things are shifting. It would be wise to cooperate before choices get made for you."
Instead of reacting, I turn and walk back toward my car, feeling his glare on my back.
The sedan is still there. Another unfamiliar face watches from a bench across the park.
Ben's cruiser passes again, slower this time.
The town feels watched, hemmed in by eyes I can't quite place.
My phone buzzes—Lily checking in. I text her back quickly.
When I reach the house, the sun is setting, painting the Victorian in deeper shadows.
The symbols under the floor and the other journals wait inside, full of answers I still can't unlock.
Nathan's warning echoes, mixing with the unease that has settled over Briar Glen like a coming storm.
I lock the door behind me and lean against it for a moment, listening to the quiet creak of the old beams. Whatever comes next, I won't wait for it to find us.