Chapter 4
Billa
“You sure this map is accurate?” Ryker takes the journal and holds it sideways. “Maybe we’re supposed to look at it this way?”
I sigh. “It’s a map I drew when I was probably nine years old. I’d be more surprised if it was drawn to scale than if it wasn’t.”
We’ve tried following it twice. The first time we ended up in a bathroom, and the second time in a storage closet. I’m starting to think this was just a game I made for Kenzi and nothing more.
Ryker studies the map, holding it upside-down and then sideways again. “I think we’ve been looking at this all wrong.”
“You don’t say.”
“What if we’re supposed to begin at the outside entrance? You know, near the woods?”
“Just about everything except the main area is near the woods, but I get what you’re saying.”
He points to the squiggly arrow next to the word “start” written in loopy letters. “If we did that, we’d end up somewhere completely different.”
The thought of going through this wing for a third time is enough to make me want to give up completely, but looking at Ryker’s excited eyes makes it hard to say no. “Let’s try it, but I’m done if we end up in another bathroom.”
“Sounds like a plan. If we still don’t find anything, we can always have Ember run analytics on it.”
“On a child’s hand-drawn map?”
“Why not?”
“Okay,” I say to placate him. What’s one more trip through this wing? Especially if we end up finding something I left for myself so many years ago.
Ryker marches ahead of me down the dim, creepy hall. I hurry to keep up.
Slam!
That sounded like a door behind us.
An icy chill runs through me like a raging river.
We both look back.
One door is shut.
Usually, we keep the doors open so everything gets air moving around. However, some rooms do stay closed for various reasons.
Ryker looks past me. “Should we check that out?”
“I’m out.”
Slam!
I jolt, then wrap my arms around myself. “I don’t like this. Coming here was a bad idea, and now the wing itself is confirming that.”
He whips his head around, stalks past me, then opens the closed door.
Looks like we’re doing this. I glance around for something I could use as a weapon. This journal will do nothing, and this hallway doesn’t have much. It’s just Ryker, me, and this journal against whatever’s slamming the doors.
He opens one door and steps inside.
I hold my breath and wait, but then I feel bad. Ryker shouldn’t have to go in there alone, especially when he’s here to help me. I’ve faced off against plenty of other scary things.
But this house is different.
It scared me as a child, when I was most vulnerable. Though now it appears I spent time at Radley too, and I’m brave there.
I take a deep breath before stepping toward the room Ryker’s in.
A noise sounds inside.
My senses all urge me to run the other way, but I can’t do that to him. I always wanted a big family, and now I have one. Time to go see if he needs help.
I quickly tap a few pressure points. Draw in another deep breath. Let it out slowly. I’ve got this.
Just as I step through the threshold, I nearly crash into him.
He steps to the side before we do. “It was an open window. That’s what made the door slam like it did. There must be a cross breeze with another one.”
My knees turn to rubber, and I lean against the wall. “That’s all it was?”
“The simplest explanation is usually right.” He moves past me and across the hall.
I’m not sure that axiom is true in this house, though he may be right about this particular incident.
If he finds another open window. It’s possible the cleaning team opened some to air everything out and forgot to close a couple. Nobody could fault them for that. This wing alone has dozens of them.
Ryker returns to the hall. “Yep, another open window. No ghosts.”
“Don’t say that word.”
“Sorry, I forgot how much it freaks you out.”
“You didn’t spend time here as a child.”
“No, but I was harmed by the older Brannons as much as anyone else here. My wicked grandmother kept me from knowing my dad for my entire childhood.”
“The same woman put Kenzi and me in a mental institution because she preferred child-free summers. Let’s hurry up and follow the map one last time.”
He looks thoughtful for a moment. “I guess none of us have escaped their harm.”
“Only Graham and Carol, who married into this mess we call a family.”
“Let’s do this. It could give you some closure. Imagine how that will feel.” He gives me a bright smile.
Sometimes I wish I had his kind of optimism, but my distrust of the world has kept me alive through circumstances most couldn’t even imagine.
How many people can say that by the age of twenty-five they were already divorced and widowed?
Plus, I’ve been kidnapped, had Regina Brannon as a stepmother, and outwitted an angry bear in Alaska.
Now I can add being institutionalized at Radley as a child, even though I can’t remember any of it—or much. Only the little snippets and flashes that pop into my mind and disappear just as quickly. Hopefully, continuing to work there will spark more.
Ryker and I head toward the back entrance to this wing. As we near it, a painting on the wall catches my attention. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before, and there’s something about it that makes me stop in my tracks.
The woman is dressed in Victorian-era clothes and is almost smiling.
Nobody back then ever did for pictures, supposedly because of the poor dental care available.
I don’t buy it. If everyone had ugly teeth, why would anyone care?
It’d have been normal. Plus, painters could’ve simply made the teeth look nice.
It wasn’t photography. This woman has something haunting in her eyes, like she’s holding onto secrets that could pull the entire world from its axis.
She’s a juxtaposition of conflicts. Her almost-smile seems genuine, but the pain in her eyes sucks me in.
“What are you doing?” Ryker asks from far down the hall.
I don’t answer, mesmerized by the painting.
“Wow, she really looks like you,” Ryker says.
His words make me jump. “What? No, she doesn’t.”
“She really does. I think it’s her eyes.”
A chill runs down my spine. “I don’t see any resemblance.”
“If you were transported into her time period, it’d be impossible to tell the difference between you two.”
“Stop.”
“I wasn’t trying to upset you.”
“Don’t you remember what happened when Kenzi discovered an ancestor she resembles?” I shudder at the thought. In a way, all of that sleepwalking led to what we’re dealing with now. The last thing any of us needs is a long-dead Brannon giving us more grief.
“Let’s focus on the map instead.”
“Good idea.” I pull myself from the painting of the woman who most certainly does not look like me and saunter down the hall with my shoulders squared. I will not let this house or any of its memories get to me.
After making several turns down various corridors, we finally make it to the door leading outside. Part of me wants to run outside and not stop until I reach my cottage.
This is all too much, especially with the creepy painting. The slamming doors helped nothing, even if it was just from a cross breeze.
Ryker takes the journal again and holds up the map at various angles. “Pretty sure we go left from here.”
I shudder. “Lead the way.”
My mind pulls from my body as I trail after Ryker. I barely register the turns or long hallways. In fact, I crash into him when he stops.
He doesn’t seem to notice. “Weird.”
“What?”
“I must’ve been wrong.” He shrugs. “If this was the right path, it wouldn’t have led us to a blank wall.”
Goosebumps form along my arms and down my back. “I don’t think this is a blank wall.”
Ryker gives me a dubious look. “What else would it be?”
“You, of all people, should be able to figure this out.” I study the wall, and sure enough, along the molding is an almost unnoticeable button.
His face pales. “A secret passage?”
I nod. “Another one we missed during the upgrades.”
He turns to me. “You do the honors.”
My heart slams against my ribcage. I kneel. Reach for the little button. Push it.
The wall shakes a little before sliding open.
My childhood map led us here. This means I knew about it all along.
Even though I have no memory of it now.