Page 2 of The Right Wrong Promise

For me, it was a generous addition to my trust fund I didn’t really need, plus this property.

But now that I’m here, I’m more confused than ever.

Why did he leave me a place that probably needs a hundred fixes to shine again?

My hands grip the steering wheel, turning my knuckles bone-white. I release them, blowing out a long, slow breath.

Then I put on my game face and climb out of the car.

My arrival disturbs a few big crows on the porch. They erupt from their roost cackling, and a couple of them nearly take my head off in their rush to leave.

“Jeez!”

I almost drop my sunglasses as I throw up my hands. Before I can curse them, they’re gone, spiraling into the sky like a plume of black smoke.

Great. At least I’m alone if this place has gone to the birds.

I snort, shaking my head.

If Ethan saw me freaking out over a few bouncy crows, he’d never let me live it down.

Whatever. It’s expected.

Jitters.

That’s part of the journey when you come back to a childhood stomping ground that’s basically haunted. Memories can be just as scary as ghosts.

For all I know, a few real ghosts moved in while it’s been abandoned, barely checked by locals and Gramps’ old bodyguard, Holden.

With my luck, I’ll need to look for psychics along with contractors to make this place decent again.

I snatch the unopened letter off the passenger seat and pat the back pocket of my jeans to make sure I’ve got the keys before stepping through the tall weeds crowding the old stone walkway to the back of the house.

The rickety stairs are sturdier than they look. They only creak a little as I climb them.

It’sweirddoing this alone without my dumb brother charging ahead of me, or my bestie, Hattie, by my side.

When we’d come here as kids, we’d always run in through the back.

“Front’s for guests. The back, that’s for family,” PopPop would always tell me with a wink.

Old habits die hard.

Same with people, andGod, I miss him.

It’s been almost a year since he left this world, but every time I think about it, my heart aches bitterly.

My grandfather was more like a third parent to Ethan and me.

So much crap has come out about his life and his complicated relationship with my mom that I don’t even know how I should feel about coming here.

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.