Prologue

Prologue

Eight Years Earlier–Helencia Gardens Estate–Great Aunt Esme’s Home

          Evan and Gemma felt bored in the old nursery. It rained the entire day so they couldn’t play in the garden. They found themselves trapped inside their Great Aunt’s rambling home with its old lamps and rickety pipes. Usually, Aunt Esme would say, the sun was too bright to be wasted they needed to go out and play. This wasn’t one of those days.

          Today, they explored the house.

          “Okay, we’ve explored everywhere, but the attic and basement. Let’s make this fun. You go into the haunted attic alone for five minutes and bring out two things.”

          “What? Haunted? Oh, no! I’m not going into a haunted attic by myself. It’s scary, you do it.”

          “Heads or tails. If it’s heads, I’ll go and tails you go.” Evan found an old coin earlier that day in a drawer and he loved to flip it.

          He argued with her until he exhausted her. Evan loved things his way. “Whatever.”

          The coin flew up, then came down into his hands. “Tails, you go into the attic and return with two things to prove you were there.”

          “Fine. Just show the coin. Which side is up?” Gemma jumped from foot to foot impatiently. Evan’s hand moved away from the coin to reveal the coin’s tail side. Gemma’s expression turned into a pout. “Of course, its tails, as usual. It’s what you want.”

          “You gotta do it. I bet you won’t, though. It’s five minutes and two things in the attic. You can take a flashlight. Just go up and then come straight back here. It’s almost bedtime.” Evan gave her a glare.

          Gemma wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of calling her a coward. She wouldn’t chicken out. “I’ll be back.” Gemma stomped out with a flashlight in hand. “If I don’t come back, you get to explain why to Aunt Esme.”

          Gemma tried to exit with as much dignity as her slight frame would allow. Her ponytail of dark hair ruined the effect by jauntily bouncing. Evan followed her to the attic door. The stairs were dark behind the door. They installed the light switch on the ceiling where neither child could reach it. Why would they do that? They understand it, and when they asked about the odd construction of the house, their aunt chuckled and shrugged her shoulders. She claimed never understood many things about the house, and she rarely answered their questions. Aunt Esme would only explain that they lived with the house’s quirks. This was Aunt Esme’s answer for everything. The house lived, and she lived there at its grace. The children didn’t understand what she meant and were tired of asking.

          Gemma’s flashlight lay heavy in her hand as she walked up the dusty stairs towards the blackness of the old attic. The air was warmer here; it smelled of dust and old things. At the top, she used the shaking light of the flashlight to examine the shadowed things. Her heart raced, echoing her nervousness. Gemma prayed she wouldn’t see any eyes looking back or find a dead body. She swallowed back the bile that bothered the back of her throat. She didn’t want to throw up. Her mind raced and every horror movie her friends at school talked about always contained a scene in a basement or attic that crossed her mind. There was always something hiding, ready to jump out and kill you in a gory fashion.

          Nothing blinked, growled, or rushed her. Gemma hesitated at the top of the stairs. While Evan paced at the door where the light was. He said nothing to her, just watching her.

          Desperate, she looked for two small things to take with her. But everything appeared to be packed in trunks and boxes. The previous residents appear to have stored things with a lot of care. Gemma found she needed to open the lid on the closest trunk. Its hinges creaked and groaned in protest at being opened so suddenly, giving that eerie sound. It made her jump and look behind her, praying a ghost didn’t notice her. The dust now lay thick in the air, and she could taste it.

          “Gem! Hurry! Aunty is coming! Grab something and get back down here.” Blindly, Gemma reached in and pulled two heavy things from the trunk. A book and hand mirror. Weird things to pack together. In a panic, Gemma brushed aside her thought. The trunk now lay open and empty. She clutched the two things tightly to her chest and let the trunk lid fall shut.

          The sound of Evan’s shoes on the stairs startled her into action. Gemma tucked the things under her sweatshirt before running down the stairs. “Aunty is on the main stairs. Hurry.” Evan turned, and they ran down the stairs. With the attic door closed, they ran down the corridor to meet Aunt Esme at the top of the main stairs.

    “What are you two doing up at this hour? You need to get ready for bed right now. Come now, it’s time for bed. I’ve brought up a snack for both of you. You can have it after you get ready for bed.” She frowned at the two children, upset that they’d disrespected the tight schedule she’d set for them. Aunt Esme carried a tray of food into the nursery. Gemma followed Aunt Esme and she could smell the hot chocolate wafting from the teapot on the tray. Aunt Esme’s snacks always included hot chocolate.

    “You shouldn’t wander off like that. It’s rude. In this family, everyone is well mannered and law-abiding. We also don’t know what’s hidden in the dark corners of this house. You know better than to the darkened rooms, or the basement. And don’t go near the attic. It’s full of old things that I can’t guarantee are safe to touch. Your ancestors have lived here for hundreds of years and only God knows the state of what’s left behind. Those things will one day be yours to care for, and that is when you can mess with it all. Until then, please respect the rules of this house. Honestly, I don’t believe anyone’s done a cleanup and I worry the contents could be dangerous. I’ll drop this tray off. You can help yourselves. I need to use the lady’s room. I’ll just be a moment.” Aunt Esme smiled and tottered off. Not waiting for a response from the children.

    Once the door closed behind her, Evan turned to Gemma. “Okay, what’d you get?”

    “A mirror and book. They were in a weird trunk.” Gemma pulled them from under her sweatshirt.

    “Yeah, that’s weird alright. Who locks books?” Gemma shrugged while he tried to break open the lock and failed.

    Gemma took the book back from Evan when he turned his attention to the mirror. “I better hide these before Aunt Esme sees we have them.”

    “Yeah, that’s a weird mirror. It’s hard to see in it. It’s all cloudy. I can’t even see myself in it. No wonder it’s up there. I’d have thrown it away.” Evan followed Gemma, carrying the mirror.

          “It might’ve belonged to someone’s loved one and they couldn’t throw it away?”

    “That type of love is unhealthy.”

    “How would you know? What are you going to do when I die? Or the girl you marry? Mom? Aunt Esme? Dad?”

    “I don’t know. It just seems weird keeping things like that.”

    “Maybe, it’s valuable?”

    “Just hide it somewhere before we get into more trouble.”

    “I will. Go get into your PJs and then meet me in the nursery.”

    “Why do we have to call it the nursery? We aren’t babies or potted plants.”

      “Just go.” Gemma pushed Evan out, closing the door behind him with a sigh. She didn’t want him to know where she hid them. He might tattle if he knew. He’d do anything to stay out of trouble. There’d be no proof if he couldn’t find it.

    Gemma put the mirror and book on her nightstand. On her hands and knees, she pulled up an old floorboard. Gemma revealed a cavity beneath the floor. She’d sneak them back to the trunk in the morning.

    The book was old, with patterns engraved into the leather cover and there were burn marks around the edges, too. Like someone tried to burn the book.

    Gemma shook her head and tucked the brown leather book away in the spacious cavity. The ornate mirror was harder to handle because of its weight, and Gemma was more careful with it. But she wanted a closer look at it. Its frame looked like silver. Evan was correct. The mirror’s reflection was off. She could not see her own image in it. Gemma needed to concentrate and stare hard into the glass to make out anything.

    When she could finally make out the images, it confused her even more. She didn’t see herself in the mirror at all. It was more like looking out a window or watching tv. What she saw was a boy about her age, asleep on a bed with fur blankets and rough stone walls. The room looked cold because she could see his breath in the air. The breath rising from the bed didn’t match only the blond-haired boy. The furry blanket moved suddenly, but the boy didn’t! The head of a bear cub poked up out of the bed and growled in the mirror’s direction. The boy sleeping with a bear cub awoke, startled by the cub’s growl. He looked from the cub and followed its eyes toward the mirror. His deep brown eyes bore into the mirror in confusion at first. Before he crawled to the end of the bed and made to reach for the mirror itself.

    Surprised at the intricate details and foreign scene with the mirror’s image. Gemma dropped the mirror in fear as her eyes met his startling green eyes, and his hand reached out to her. It bounced off the corner of the nightstand. When it finally settled on the bed. Gemma saw a crack form in the mirror’s glass. The glass stayed within the frame as the image winked out and the crack formed. She stood there for a breath or two, trying to process what she saw. A boy and his bear.

    Gemma quickly returned to herself and tucked it away in the floor. She slid the board back into place. Her hands still shook the entire time, and she watched the spot, almost expecting the boy to move the floorboard and climb out. This was worse than expecting a ghost to be behind her, ready to eat her. Had she seen what she thought she saw? Was that real? Who sleeps with a wild bear cub? Where were they? She didn’t know what to do. Should she tell someone? Or would that get her in more trouble with Aunt Esme and her parents?

          Gemma decided quickly she wouldn’t say anything to anyone, even Evan. He’d tease her and others might not believe her.

    That night, Gemma remembered waking to the sounds of yelling. The words made no sense. Her parents didn’t like something their aunt wanted to do.

    Later, her mother entered Gemma’s room and packed her things. They left without explanation. They never saw their great aunt again. Over the years, her parents died from a tropical disease they’d picked up in Florida. They said nothing beyond she wouldn’t teach her kind of crazy.