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Chapter 1
Of all the people who knew about the big house in the middle of Wyndham Woods, very few had ever been inside For over a century, the owners had been iland Occasionally, soates and down the winding lane to repair a pipe or deliver supplies; but for the on in the hills, a sleeping legend that barely touched anything beyond its line of trees
But that never stopped the stories
The ceilings are forty feet high, soold Every so often, one teenager would dare another to cliet a look at the house, and the trespasser would show up at school the following day with tales of arh a tunnel lined with barbed wire
(The one-way ride in the back of a squad car and the stern call to their parents, however, alent unmentioned)
ButSure, ossips knew only the h just to i on a wall in the middle of the woods
And yet no one ever saw it In truth, no outsider even ca black ponytail and bright blue eyes drove through the town and down the narroo-lane blacktop
No one saw her park the Vespa she had “borrowed” from her uncle Calvin Not a soul was there to witness how easily she scaled the tall iron fence and landed softly on the daround on the other side
She was not the first teenager to find the narrow path through the woods, but she was the first to stop when she reached the clearing that surrounded the house She didn’t uards were distracted, and then all she had to do was stroll to the ivy-covered trellis at the rear of the house And climb
At the top of the trellis, the girl wasted no ti the wires that ran, almost undetectable, around theAinside, as quick and nimble and quiet as a cat
The girl dropped lightly onto the hardwood floor, but stayed perfectly still for a long while, waiting for a creak that never ca the hall and down the stairs, there were no noises of any kind Not the ticking of a clock There were no crackling fires or rushing winds The house was utterly silent, abandoned; and so she dared to walk a little faster,double doors at the back of the house
There was an ornate desk that had once belonged to a king of England (one of the Georges, rurandfather clock that had been way first edition that had been autographed by the author hi that hung in the gentle light over the mantel of the fireplace in the back of the room
For a ht have been a student in a gallery, a buyer at an auction It see so beautiful So she stood alone, waiting, until a voice said, “I see you found the Monet”
She startled when the lights flicked on, but she didn’t yell or run She just looked at the boy who stood behind her in a T-shirt with a frayed collar and a bright blue pair of Superman pajama bottoms
“You’re not supposed to be here,” the girl said
“Funny, I was going to say the saotten significantly
“You don’t seeirl said
“Well, that makes two of us”
Spotlights shone down, and the boy studied her in theat rare, beautiful things Then he jerked his head at the painting and said, “Okay Go ahead, take it”
He started to leave, but stopped when the girl said, “Yeah, I can have this one It’s a fake”
“Oh now, that hurts” He brought a hand to his chest like he’d been stabbed “Not that it’s any of your business, but the Hale faest collection of Monets in the United States”
“Technically, it’s the largest private collection And this isn’t one of theht onto the delicate brushstrokes—“is a slightly better-than-average forgery”
When the boy eased closer to the painting, it was like he was seeing it for the first tiht”
“Sorry to break it to you”
He shook his head slowly “But randmother said…”
“She lied,” the girl told him
The boy s that sounded like “Hazel is awesoirl wasn’t quite sure
“What was that?” she asked, but the boy just laughed
“Nothing”
“You’re a strange kid,” she told him
“Yet another thing we have in common”
This tiirl blushed It seemed like a co told her that the forgery was more precious to hiirl, however, didn’t share that opinion
Hurriedly, she put her tools away and turned, heading for herand the path through the woods But the boy rushed after her
“Where are you going?”
“Oh”—the girl laughed—“it’s probably best if I don’t tell you that”