Page 56

Rowan

I buy a bottle of water to split with Lickie in preparation for the walk back to the mansion. But then I’m so curious that I grab an Uber instead.

Beatrice sounded rattled.

A few minutes later, Lickie and I climb the mansion’s steps. “No chewing any hand-carved masterpieces, m’kay?” I scratch her between the ears before punching the code in the front door’s keypad.

Inside, it’s dim and quiet, as it should be. The lights are off and workers have gone home for the day. Still, the mansion feels extra desolate.

“Beatrice?” I call as I walk through the empty atrium. Aside from the clicking of Lickie’s nails on the bare floors, there’s only silence.

I head to the library, but find the same quiet darkness.

Confused, I retrace my steps. “Beatrice?”

Then I hear a sound upstairs. Footsteps.

Lickie freezes midstride and flattens her ears.

“Come on, girl,” I say, shortening the leash and leading her toward the staircase. We start the climb, and as the stairs curve, I see light shining from above. It’s coming from the third-floor gallery. “Bea?”

“I’m up here,” she calls, her voice strained. “But that baby won’t stop crying. Don’t you hear it?”

I pause on the steps and listen, trying to hear anything besides Lickie’s panting.

Then it comes. A thin wail. And the hair on my neck stands up.