Chapter 6
“Mom!” Lark’s voice startles me, and I screech out a sound no lady should make. At least I’m not a lady. “You have to see this school!”
“Well, if we are staying here for a while, we might as well.” My body creaks as I push up to my feet to catch up with a bouncing Lark.
“Shouldn’t school be in session today?” I brush off the dirt and pocket my phone, then toss my coffee cup in the trash as Lark opens up the doors to the schoolhouse.
Now when I think of a schoolhouse, I think of run-down little towns with a one-room house and a bunch of desks, then each of those desks is a different grade. What I find is not at all what I dreamed up. The term ‘schoolhouse’ doesn’t apply to this beautiful building.
It’s red brick on the outside, with an angular set of steps that lead inside to a marble tiled floor. To the left is a dark office, and to the right is a staircase that goes up and down. Ahead is a long stretch of hallway that’s lined with classrooms on either side.
Where I grew up, our city had a preschool, a kindergarten, a middle school, and then a high school. There was a building for each, and multiple classrooms for each as well.
Although Arlo called this a schoolhouse, and it doesn’t quite fit that definition, it isn’t a typical school either.
On each of the doors is a little flag with an apple and a worm on a yellow background.
“This floor is the elementary school!” Larks spins around, grabbing my hand and tugging me down the hall.
“How many floors are there?” Pulling away from her, I peer up at the staircase, then down. There is a lot more to this building than meets the eye. Sure, it looked big from the outside, but being in here now, it seems so much larger than it should.
“Four.”
“Really? How?”
“You must be Wren and Lark.” The musical voice drifts to us before a slender woman steps out of a door at the other end of the hallway. “My mother told me I might find you here.”
She’s nothing at all like her brother and her mother. She’s tall and slender, and she’s wearing a simple gray pantsuit with a teal silk blouse and matching teal shoes. Her dark hair sits on top of her head, pinned out of the way, while her pink lips stretch across her face in a warm smile.
It seems every single member of that family has that small-town warmth that radiates from them.
Drying my sweaty palms, I reach out for her hand, and she doesn’t even bat an eyelash. I like this woman already.
“Wren Finnley.” I jerk my head down to my little mini me. “And you are correct in guessing this is Lark.”
“Welcome.” Her smile makes her face light up from within as she glances at Lark. “I’m Seraphina Larson.”
Ah, so that’s their last name. I’m a terrible person for not asking first then running an FBI check on this entire town. Someday I’ll learn the error of my ways.
“Hello, Ms. Larson. Are you teaching eighth grade?” Lark practically bounces from foot to foot.
“Absolutely, let’s take a tour first, shall we?
” Seraphina reaches for Lark’s hand, and my little traitor grabs it without hesitation, before leading her down the hall.
“You were right, Lark—I dedicated this entire floor to elementary school grades. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now this is a tiny school, so we don’t have a gym aside from the courts outside and the track across the street. ”
“I don’t play any sports.” Lark shudders a bit at the announcement as though she couldn’t possibly fathom the thought of playing a sport. Same, girl, same.
“Not a problem, though we encourage active participation.” Seraphina leads the way through a set of double doors that hold yet another staircase and an old-school elevator.
“What was this building?” I ask as the elevator door squeaks open.
“A sanitorium,” Seraphina answers, her tone implying it’s not that big of a deal.
It is. It’s a very big deal. It’s creepy and I love it. I glance down at Lark, reading her face and the interest there.
“Shall we?” Seraphina questions, holding the door open for us. We enter hesitantly, since this thing looks like it’s about to fall apart. “It’s safe, I assure you. Arlo inspects it monthly.”
That does not give me the warm fuzzies, but we still step inside of it.
“The students or the faculty rarely use this elevator, but I always bring parents on here the first time they visit. It’s a bit of a tradition.” She beams. “You’ll find that Silent Springs has a quirky history.”
“By quirky, do you mean full of questionable buildings?” The motor grinds, and it sounds like a dying cat. If I wore pearls, I’d clutch them.
“Isn’t that what makes small towns so interesting?” she teases as the elevator lurches to a full stop. “Here we are!” The door opens, and we step out onto the next floor and through another set of doors.
It looks like the only part of the school that resembles what it once was is the elevator.
Small miracles and all that. Wishing I had something to do with my hands, like grab yet another cup of coffee, I follow behind Lark and Seraphina, vaguely listening as she shows her the middle school hallway.
Here, the little flags have the picture of a moose, which seems to be the school’s logo, with the grades marked above the beast’s body.
I should have expected a moose as the mascot.
“Here’s the eighth grade, Lark.” Seraphina opens the door to a room that, to me, looks like any other classroom we’ve passed—or even any other classroom I’ve ever walked into or sat in.
But to Lark? Her chocolate brown eyes widen in excitement, and she twirls in a circle before catching sight of the bookshelf and launching her body at it. Her fingers slide over spines of books that I know she’s probably read or wants to read.
“Wren, do you mind?” Seraphina gestures to her desk that sits catty-corner to the classroom in front of a large whiteboard.
“Sure.” I take a seat at one of the small desks, my tall frame barely fitting as my knees bump the underside. Okay, it’s probably a good idea I didn’t refill that coffee cup, because I would have knocked it over.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d love to test Lark and make sure she’s eligible for the eighth grade. I know this wasn’t your destination.”
“Ah, Arlo or Saffron?” I drum my fingers on the desktop, irritation gripping my spine. I’ve heard news travels fast in small towns, but I’ve never experienced it before. I can’t really say I’m mad either. Just cautious.
“A little of both.” Her kind eyes soften further, if that’s even possible.
She missed her calling as a Disney Princess with those bright blue eyes.
“I hear Lark doesn’t want to miss out on any education.
This will prevent that from happening until you get the paperwork settled.
I have all of my credentials in a packet for you if you’re worried about leaving Lark with a stranger. ”
“No, I believe you.” She’s far too genuine to be a serial killer anyway. My fingernails scrape a long scratch in the wood. “That is very logical, and I really have no complaints.”
Which bugs me, and I can’t quite put my finger on why.
“Perfect. Now…” Ah, here it is, the bomb that’s going to implode this picture-perfect little moment. “I hope I’m not overstepping here, but I hear you may stay until the spring?” Her perfectly sculpted brow rises in question.
Do I want to stay? I think I’ve watched far too many horror movies that start off this way, and the heroine always ends up dead by being far too trusting. “Hmm.”
“I’m hoping you will consider staying until the end of the school year, for Lark’s sake.”
She’s so soft-spoken and logical that she makes it really hard to argue with her, and I’m not sure I even want to argue with her. “I’ll think about it.” I can at least give her that much.
“Lark?” she calls over to my kid, who already has her nose in a book.
Her eyes pop up over the pages. I know that look. She found a book she is truly interested in and doesn’t want to put it down.
“If it’s okay with you, I have some tests to run through, since your former transcripts haven’t made their way here yet. This way you can begin bright and early Monday morning.”
Ugh. Why does she have to make Monday sound magical? The only thing magical about Mondays is when I can pretend they don’t exist and stay in bed all day.
“Sure.” Unconvinced, Lark sets her book aside.
“It’ll be a few hours,” Seraphina tells me. “I hear Arlo is sending you to the library.”
“Nice dismissal,” I mutter.
“You are more than welcome to stay here and watch.” Her head cocks to the side, and it’s then that I decide she’s a zombie.
“Nope, I’m good.” I stand far too quickly, making the desk fall over onto its side and crash to the ground. Because it’s me and I am a klutz, I bend over to right the desk, only for it to slide beneath my fingertips and crash back to the floor.
“I’ve got it.” Seraphina lays a hand on my arm, and I slowly back away.
“It’s these coats,” I mumble, feeling like a marshmallow.
“Mom.” Lark gives me that you are embarrassing me voice.
“I’ll just, ah…” I back away slowly, which is a terrible idea, because I end up just backing up into yet another set of desks. “See you back at the B&B?”
“Make it the diner at lunch!”
“I’ll make sure she gets there all right.” Seraphina isn’t at all fazed by my antics. That is why she is the principal of this school.
Outside in the hall, I let the door slowly snick shut before blowing out a coffee scented breath. That could have gone better.
My boots squeak on the tile as I make my way out of the hall and back to the staircase. The elevator looms beside me like a specter, sending a chill up my spine, but it’s that adrenaline spike I needed to pull me out of the weird feelings I’ve been having about being here.
I feel like I’ve crash-landed on another planet and everyone is kind, nice, and somehow looking out for you. That’s what life should be like. Yet I grew up in a city, and while there were people to look out for you, it wasn’t like this.