Everything is about to change in ways I’d never be able to imagine. The strangest part is feeling like I’m closing a chapter of my life that I’ll never return to. I mean, how often will I really return to Mistwood Point? A few times a year to visit my mom? Things will never be the same.
A sudden wave of regret washes over me. My mom’s not even here to say good-bye—not that I expected her to. To say she wasn’t pleased with my decision would be an understatement.
My legs are shaky as I meander down the narrow stairs with Wade. The muted thud of my footsteps as they fall on the wood are haunting. Like they’re nothing more than echoes of the past. When we reach the bottom, I take a quick glance around the only place I’ve known as home for the past thirteen years. The small living room to the left houses the bazillion books and DVDs my mom and I have spent countless hours perusing. To the right, the dining room table is empty, with the exception of a single placemat and table setting.
She’s already put mine away.
“Ready?” Wade whispers, placing a hand on my shoulder.
I smile weakly and nod. Without looking back, I open the front door and walk out onto the porch—and into the unknown.
Chapter 7
Welcome home, Autumn
The entire drive to Windhaven is a strange mixture of elation and despair. Leaving now is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But Wade was right about one thing—saying good-bye isn’t my forte. It’s like it’s not even in my DNA. Had he not been the guiding force, encouraging me to go out the door, I’m almost certain I would have decided to stay in Mistwood Point.
However, the more distance I get, the more clarity washes over me. There are answers I need, and a part of me realizes there are mysteries I need to unravel. At the very least, I need to rebuild my relationship with my father.
When I pull up to the manor, darkness has descended and the landscape looks far more ominous than it did when I arrived the last time. Gone is the beautiful sunlight and inviting trees. Instead, I’m met with gnarly branches, moonlight, and abrupt, twisty turns along a long drive.
Lights are on inside the home, however, casting a warm glow across the cobblestone driveway and inviting me to come within. I put Blue into park and hop out. I take a deep, cool inhalation and stare at the moon. It’s barely a sliver and about to disappear completely in the next day or two.
The angel statue in the middle of the circle still draws my attention and the deep groves and shadows that are cast upon it by the landscape lighting. The evening hours certainly give it a haunting aura. Twisting around, I grab my backpack from the passenger seat and head up the stone stairs.
Lifting my hand to knock, I hold there with my hand in the air. Instead, I drop it to the handle and open the door. After all, if this is about to be my home, I guess I should start acting like it.
The massive door creaks open and I peer inside.
“Hello?” I call out. “Dad? Are you here?”
Silence greets my echo, but as I take a few steps into the main entry, Dad appears around the corner.
“Hi there, sweetie. I was wondering when you’d be here,” he says, a bright smile gracing his face. It lights up all of his features and lifts my spirits. There were so many times when I wished I had a better relationship with him. Or when I wished I could understand what happened between him and my mom. Hopefully, now’s that chance.
“Yeah, I, uh, it was hard to leave Wade and Mom. Harder than I expected—”
He nods. “I get it. Saying good-bye isn’t easy.”
“It really isn’t,” I agree. I take a deep breath to clear my energy, and I shuffle the backpack on my shoulder. “Well, I’m here now.” I smile back at him, trying to emulate the same level of enthusiasm.
“Excellent,” he says. “What would you like to do? Did you want a quick tour? Or do you just want to get settled for the night?”
“A tour would be great, actually. I didn’t get the chance to see much the last time I was here,” I say, casting my gaze around the space with curious eyes. Despite being here not long ago, it still looks vastly different from what I remember as a kid.
“Well, all right then. Let’s do the tour,” he beams.
I nod, waving my hand out in front of me.
Dad takes the lead, speaking over his shoulder like a proper tour guide. “So, I don’t know how much about this house you remember…but the manor, it’s been in our family for generations.”
“I remember being here as a kid, but it definitely looks different.”
“Yeah, when your mom and I had moved in, it had fallen into some disrepair over the years. I felt like it was my purpose, my mission, to restore it to the type of glory it deserved,” he continues as we make our way up the massive front staircase.
“You’ve done a lot from what I can tell,” I say, unable to pick a single place to look. Everywhere is something to see—beautiful sconces, decorative woodworking, old pictures, and knickknacks. Each item looks like it was plucked out of another era, but still somehow manage to look like they belong.
“The original structure’s still in here—it’s just received a much-needed facelift.”
“You’ve done a really beautiful job, Dad,” I say, and I truly mean it. I can only imagine the kind of work this places has needed to look so good.
As we reach the second level, Dad turns left and follows the corridor around the corner, as the house curves into its U-shape. Ornate glass and bronze sconces hang from the wall in intermittent intervals, glowing dimly like candlelight. I can’t help but feel like I’ve either walked into a fairy tale or some sort of horror movie.
“We’ll start on this wing and work our way backward to your bedroom. Sound good?” Dad says, shooting me a grin from over his shoulder.
“Works for me,” I nod.
“Well, up here is a lot of the miscellaneous rooms. Some are bedrooms, but others are just useful for the view,” he begins. “The interior rooms, these ones to the right, overlook the pond and courtyard, so they’re nice for reading, relaxing, and whatnot. Since it’s pretty much pitch-black outside, it’ll probably be better to take another look in the morning.”
I nod in agreement.
The house is laid out more like a hotel than a home, with a good ten or so doors along both sides of the massive hallway. Most of the doors are closed, so we keep walking to the end and an enormous bay window with two massive chairs that face it.
“This faces the pond, right?” I say, pointing out the window.
Dad nods. “Indeed. The middle and both ends of the house face out toward the pond. Everything else faces the interior of the courtyard or out into the woods.”
“So, the other wing looks almost exactly like this one. It’s where my bedroom is and at the top of the stairs was my study. So, let me show you those quick before we head downstairs,” he says, turning around and going back the way we came.
Old paintings and mirrors adorn the wall, like remnants of the past. None of it looks like something a modern day dad would buy, so I’m pretty sure they came with the house. As we pass the main stairwell, I stop to look out over the entryway. From the landing, the large chandelier somehow looks even bigger at this angle. Its light ricochets off in all sorts of directions and is absolutely stunning. Holding onto the railing, I lean forward, looking at the space from this near-bird’s-eye view.