CHAPTER 67

We continued through the house, examining various objects, searching for something, anything. But as we finished searching the first floor, we came up empty.

We both stopped before a narrow, wooden staircase. It was blocked by a velvet rope, on which hung a sign: “Private: upstairs for staff only.”

Caleb gave me a look.

“We’ve come this far,” he said.

He reached over and unclasped the rope.

Excited, I went first, my footsteps echoing on the hard, wooden staircase. The house creaked and groaned as we went, as if protesting its new visitors.

The second floor of the house had even lower ceilings, barely high enough for Caleb to stand in. It was now almost dark, and there was just enough light to see by. We stood in a beautiful and cozy room, with wide plank wooden floorboards, six over six windowpanes, and tastefully decorated with period furniture. At its center was a brick fireplace with black stain around its edges, clearly worn from years of use.

Greeting them at the top of the