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When I get to the top, I don’t even have to ring the bell or knock on the door It’s already open

“Hello, Miss Fitzgerald,” a maid says

The mere fact that she tries to address s to me, makes my skin crawl

Still, I smile, if only to keep up the veneer of fake happiness “Hi”

“I’lad you’re back,” the woman says But I don’t even know her “C’mon” She beckons me inside

“Isn’t he cooes back to his car

“No, he’s got a job to do,” she replies

I don’t think I want to knohat kind of job that is

I’s, at all the beautiful tapestries and paintings hanging on the walls of this house, which re There are two roo ets to the top Even the floors are made of marble, and I can’t help but wonder what kind of money they had to earn to afford this

Blood money, I’m sure

Suddenly, a woman in a dark red dress walks out of a room at the top of the stairs

Mom

Even though I haven’t seen her since I was a little girl, I still recognize that curly chestnut hair, puffy, round face, and signature lipstick froo

My knees start to wobble as she clutches the railing, her light brown eyes boring into my soul

“Harper …” The way she speaks my name makes all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up

I didn’t think I’d ever hear her voice again

She goes down the stairs with elegance and grace, her hand on the railing, her body sliding down like a snake slithers down a tree While I’round, she walks up to me and clutches my hands “I’m so, so happy you’re back here”

Her voice and over-the-top Irish accent e

Her voice is so warh I don’t know if I can trust her or not, my whole body yearns for her touch

And when she finally opens her arainst her chest as we hug tight, and for athat has happened tofor my parents’ murderer