Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
But that’s the thing about feelings. Sometimes they decide for you.
The letter in my hand almost vibrates, waiting to be read.
I put the key in the lock and turn. It’s a little stiff from disuse.
Then I walk inside, inhaling the living past.
Oh, I forgot this smell.
There’s still a hint of brine in the air from the nearby ocean, mingling with the staleness of abandonment. The lightbulb in the hallway blows out the second I flick the switch, so I head to the living room.
Surprisingly, the blinds are open, revealing the glittering lake sprawled out in front of me. Fall colors dye the water twenty shades of red and orange.
It’s freaking beautiful in a moody kind of way.
There’s a little beach down there, all rocks and pale sand, along with an old dock jutting out into the lake. The water laps against it gently.
I smile before I catch myself.
It’s weird being here with so much silence.
I keep imagining Ethan will jump out from behind a door to scare me or PopPop will come stomping downstairs and tell me to unpack the damn car before he has to do it all himself.
Now, just whispers.
The wind whistling lightly against the house, floorboards creaking, secrets frozen in silence.
At least the house has been maintained on the inside. It’s actually clean in here, with nothing obviously broken besides the light.
The appliances all work, supposedly.
Might have to thank Holden for that. He still makes the rounds periodically at all the old family properties, making sure they’re safe and secure. It keeps him employed and gives us one less headache until we decide what to put on the market.
Still, it almost feels like there’s someone else here.
That’s silly.
Today it’s just me and the breeze and whatever chaos PopPop left behind in this letter.
I mean, it can’t be worse than Ethan’s surprise, right?
It’s not like I have to marry some dude just to get my inheritance. Never thought in a million years it would lead to Ethan and Hattie tying the knot, but here we are.
Not much comfort.
PopPop was a strange man, and adventure was practically his religion. He loved to live, and if he had to prod you along to do it, that was no sin.
My stomach churns at the thought of opening it.
His last words.
The last little fragment of him I’ll get in this life. And after that, I’ll have nothing but grief.
More grief.
Nothing but sadness and ghostly jump scares from my own brain. Melancholy and mysteries I’m not sure I need.
There’s a real possibility he’s left me something else here, something crazy.
I might be safe from any freak engagement clauses, but so what? He gave my brother the kick in the butt he needed to find true love. In PopPop’s eyes, Ethan needed it.
But what about me?
Is he just waiting to upend my life with some weird lesson while he chuckles from beyond the grave?
Only one way to find out…
My stomach twists again and I bite my bottom lip.
No, luggage first. Then I’ll read it.
I head back outside to my luggage waiting in the trunk.
When I packed my bags, I wasn’t sure how long I’d be staying, so I brought enough stuff to last a month. Just in case I need to do more here than take a good, long look at my property and figure out what to do with it.
Too bad I’m not a light packer.
I’m a material girl, okay?
It takes me three trips. By the time I’ve lugged the third bulging roller bag up the old staircase to my room, I’m sweating.
I’m a runner, so I don’t lift much, and it shows.
This is way more intense than the workouts my personal trainer puts me through back home.
I leave the remaining luggage by the back door and don’t bother locking it as I head into the living room again. It’s not like I’m worried about anyone breaking in.
We’re in the middle of nowhere.
Reasonably close to Bar Harbor but tucked back and secluded from the main tourist rush which is tapering off around this time. Just twenty or so miles northwest of the rocky shore that starts in Acadia National Park, but it might as well be on another planet.
It’s the kind of place you visit to escape.
Right now, I’m not feeling it, though.
With the steady breeze and the isolation, I keep hearing noises upstairs.
Footsteps, almost, and even though I know it’s just my imagination running wild, it has me on edge.
Or does the letter just have me so worried I’m hallucinating? Is that a thing?
Deep breath, Gigi.
I’ve never been one to shy away from the important stuff.
But this letter is pure dread.
Probably because I never imagined how many dark secrets were swirling around this family until Ethan’s whole drama arc played out.
No more putting it off, though.
The lawyer released it for a reason once I told her I’d be making a trip up here. But even when Jackie Wilkes turned it over with her usual stern, polite lawyerly smile, I didn’t dare open it.