Eva jolted awake, her mouth open to scream, but no sound came out. She darted from her bed and rubbed at her eyes, trying desperately to shake the nightmare off.
What nightmare? She blinked and scanned her room, then, in a flash, it came back to her. Sarah was smiling as she brushed Rachel’s hair, but the girl’s face was wrinkled and as dry as a prune. Her teeth were blackened, and her blue eyes were milky.
“You should never have stayed, Eva. But now . . .”
Eva raked her fingers down her face and tried to shake off the remnants of the dream. The dregs of it clung to her, clouding her mind, and threatened to pull her back under. Even her subconscious wanted her to run away from the job. But making it something mythical was outrageous. Rachel was just an unpleasant little girl. “It’s nothing, just a nightmare.” She reached for her phone by the bedside and tapped the screen. A visual break from rehashing what happened would help, and hopefully she wouldn’t fall asleep in the same nightmare.
12:32
Six hours until her alarm went off, but there was no way she could close her eyes right now.
With no hope of drifting off to sleep, she typed: Sarah Medeiros New Bedford
Blue listings popped up—hundreds of them—but none that Eva wanted. She chewed on her bottom lip, typed in West End, and waited.
Sarah’s picture appeared next to an article.
Local Dartmouth real estate agent, Sarah Medeiros, had been reported missing for four days. Authorities were notified by a concerned neighbor. Not long after the detectives began their search, someone tipped off they’d seen Sarah at Fort Phoenix in Fairhaven, Massachusetts.
According to Ms. Medeiros, when asked, all was well, and she had only been away dealing with extended family.
On further investigation, when we approached the concerned neighbor, Martin Delano, he stated that a little girl had appeared as if out of thin air. Reportedly, the child is, in fact, Ms. Medeiros’ younger cousin. Soon after, they moved.
When we dug further, we discovered Ms. Medeiros moved to the old infamous Dead Eddy House in New Bedford. But when we reached out for comments, Ms. Medeiros and the girl were unavailable.
Oh. Pieces of the puzzle shifted into place, and she realized this could very well be why Rachel seemed so bitter. Perhaps she was. This seemed to be important information for Eva to know about her ward, and she wasn’t certain why it had been kept a secret.
There has to be more to the story. Had her parents died or simply lost custody?
Eva scrolled and frowned as a screen popped up, prompting her to subscribe for a fee. She stared at the screen, wondering why on earth the authorities would get involved over a woman not leaping to answer phone calls.
“No. You’re supposed to be soothing your fears, not fostering them.” Fears of what, exactly? Eva didn’t know. There was just an uneasiness building in her, and Rachel’s grim predictions didn’t make it any easier.
Tomorrow she’d try harder, and if the girl still wasn’t receptive, then Sarah would have to find someone else. What was six hundred dollars a day when it came to peace of mind? Money was great, but if Eva spent the nights fidgeting, unable to sleep, was it worth it?
* * *
Eva’s doorbell buzzed, stirring her from sleep. She snatched her phone up and eyed the time; it wasn’t even six o’clock yet. She flipped her blankets off and sleepily marched out of her room, but before she got to the door, it flung open.
In stormed her mother, dressed in a blue paisley shawl, flowy black pants, and Birkenstocks. Her salt-and-pepper hair was in a single braid that draped over her shoulder. “My love!”
“Mom?” she squeaked.
“I haven’t heard from you in a few days, so I wanted to stop by.”
“At a quarter of six in the morning?” She blinked at her. Sometimes, even her mother’s oddness surprised her. Just when she thought she’d seen it all . . .
“Oh, is it that early? I was wondering why some shops weren’t open yet. I was just at a yoga session. You should join me someday.”
Eva nodded slowly. Yoga wasn’t her thing. Running? Now that she could manage. But if twelve-hour shifts were in her foreseeable future, all she would want to do when she got home was sleep.
“Did you need something . . .” Eva closed the door as her mother strolled into the living room.
“No. I just wanted to see my firstborn. And your sister said something about a new job? I know how upset you were about the Peabodys leaving.” Her mother sat on the couch and patted the seat next to her.
“Of course Lily did.” She sighed. Leave it to her sister to steal her thunder. Eva plopped down next to her mother and brushed her hair back. “It’s at the old Eddy House.”
“The Dead Eddy’s House?” Her mother’s eyes widened.
“What?” Eva couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s on Maple Street.”
“That’s the Dead Eddy’s House.” She placed her hand on top of Eva’s knee. “It got its name because the entire family was murdered and they don’t know who did it. They say their ghosts haunt the house to this day.”
Unease crept into Eva. Dread feathered along her skin as she mulled over the history of the house.
“It’s for seventy thousand a year, though.”
Her mother hummed and withdrew her hand. “That’s an awful lot of trips to St. Maarten. Which, by the way, I booked a trip for June.” And just like that, her mother was off on another tangent.
She leaned into her mother, curling her arm around hers. Scatterbrained or not, she loved the woman, and she amused Eva to no end.
* * *
Eva opened the Medeiros’ door and nearly walked into Sarah. She stepped back, sucking in a surprised breath, and placed her hand on her chest. “Sorry about that.”
There was no hint of a smile in Sarah’s eyes, but her lips twitched into the semblance of one. “Eva, dear, I made a fresh pitcher of lilac lemonade and chocolate cake. Be sure to eat that. I don’t want it going to waste.”
“Sarah, I had a question—”
“I’m terribly late for work. Don’t forget to try the album?” Sarah stepped outside, moving around Eva. “Just one more day. If you’re really having a difficult time, then I’ll re-list my ad.”
She nodded. Eva could handle another twelve hours in the house, and if she was lucky, maybe she could get Rachel to go outside with her. “Of course.”
Sarah’s mouth formed a thin line, and she walked down the remaining stairs. “I’ll see you this evening.” She turned away and walked to her car.
When Sarah pulled out of the driveway, Eva took a moment to steady herself. This entire situation was weird, and she had dealt with her fair share of odd people.
Eva stepped into the house and ventured into the kitchen. She eyed the counter, wondering if a note had been left for her, but nothing. Only the chocolate cake.
Her stomach rumbled, and she helped herself to the cabinets, fetching a plate. She found a fork and knife in a drawer, then set to slicing herself a piece.
“Rachel, do you want a piece of cake?” she asked but wasn’t certain why. The girl no doubt would answer with a hiss or other insult.
“I’m not hungry,” the girl’s flat voice called out.
Shrugging, Eva piled the sweet treat into her mouth. The rich, dark chocolate exploded on her tongue. It was so good. No way it was a boxed confection. She devoured the rest of it and set to washing the dish and cutlery right away.
When she was done, Eva walked into the living room to find Rachel reading a book. Upon further inspection, it was a novel about the Puritans. Odd choice for a little girl. But she commended her for reading outside of the typical books.
Eva glanced at the end table, then at the bronze knob on its door, and remembered Sarah mentioning the family album. She moved forward, kneeling before the mid-century piece, and thought about how disconnected the entire house’s decor seemed. There was no true theme, just a mishmash of various centuries ranging from Victorian to mid-century.
She opened the table and heard Rachel muttering to herself.
“Don’t touch things!” the girl snapped.
Eva plucked out the album and offered a small smile. “I heard you like to learn about your family history.”
Rachel jutted her bottom lip out. “I already know all about it.”
“Maybe, but I don’t. I’d like to learn.”
A mixture of emotions passed over Rachel’s face, and Eva couldn’t pinpoint them all, but there was no mistaking a sudden dark glimmer in her eyes.
“Very well.”
Eva sat on the couch and placed the leather album on her lap. She opened to the first page and noted the same women who were in picture frames on the walls in the hall. “‘Sarah and Rachel Towne oppose Boston Globe’s research into the Salem Witch Trials, calling Edward Sullivan’s research a sham and mockery of history.’”
“The sisters—my family—descend from the Salem witches. Sarah and Rachel were hated for opposing such a big company in 1874.” Rachel’s lips quirked into a delighted smile. The first authentic smile Eva had ever seen.
“That’s a cool bit of history to have in the family. My family is mostly new immigrants, but we’re from Scotland. We had our own witch trials then too.”
Rachel gave a dismissive grunt and shook her head. “Every culture has hunted a witch at some point.”
That was accurate enough. Still, it wasn’t right.
Eva turned the page, and this time, it highlighted two different women in the early 1900s. “‘Sisters Prudence and Chastity begin a column in New Bedford, and they focus on the history revolving around the Salem Witch Trials.’”
“Mmm.” Rachel tapped her fingers on her book. “We’ve always had ties to the trials. They burned one of our family members at the stake. So, call us a little obsessed.”
Eva frowned. “That’s terrible.” Although so long ago, it was still a wretched thing to do. And so many were innocent. So many had nothing to do with witchcraft, whatever that entailed.
The mood in the room changed drastically, and Eva closed the album. “Why don’t we head outside? I know it’s early yet—”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Rachel said, snapping the book shut with such force, Eva almost leaped out of her skin.
Well, this is an improvement.
Eva crossed the distance between them and reached for the book in Rachel’s grasp only to pause midway. “Do you want me to put that away for you, or do you want to read outside?”
“I’ll leave it inside. Just put it on the hutch.” Rachel motioned to the built-in hutch behind her. “I want to enjoy the weather before it turns.”
Such an odd thing for a little girl to say. She sounded more like Eva’s grandmother than any child she’d watched before.
“Of course.” She rounded the wheelchair and leaned forward to push the break off. Rachel was almost in a pleasant mood, but Eva wasn’t about to push it. She pushed through the living room, to the kitchen, and headed for the door.
She maneuvered it open and pulled the chair through the doorway and onto the ramp leading into the backyard.
Eva carefully moved from the incline to the paved path and continued onto the grass, heading toward a wooden bench with black iron legs. Above it, a red maple’s new leaves rustled, not fully formed yet.
It was more peaceful out here than in the house. Eva didn’t understand why, but inside, it was almost like dozens of people were screaming.
Get out of here.
You don’t belong.
Run!
“Eva?” Rachel’s voice grabbed Eva from the screeching in her head, startling her. “I asked if you wanted to know how I got this way?” She motioned to her legs and the chair.
Maybe Sarah was right and all it would take was a few days for Rachel to settle in. “If you’re ready, Rachel, I’m willing to listen.” She placed a hand to her chest and offered a reassuring smile.
“It’s not that interesting of a story.” Rachael sighed and looked away, her fingers fiddling with the skirt of her navy dress. “I ran up the basement stairs when I was told not to. It was as if someone grabbed my ankle, and I twisted, falling down the stairs. When I hit the floor, I knew it was bad.” She frowned and grew quiet after the admission.
Eva wasn’t sure what she should do at that moment. Rachel hadn’t shown herself to want physical affection in the short time they’d known one another, and she didn’t enjoy being coddled. That much she knew. Even so, her heart ached for the girl. What a terrible accident!
“Thank you for sharing that,” Eva said after a moment. It was all she could safely say and truly mean it.
Rachel nodded. “There is some birdseed in the shed. Would you mind grabbing some and refilling the feeders?”
“Of course.” Eva set off across the lawn, to the shed painted the same shade of green as the house. When she opened the double doors, she scanned the immediate area and found the bird seed.
Eva scooped up the bag and carried it to the feeders, refilling them with the cup inside.
“While you’re up,” Rachel started, then pointed toward the bird bath across the lawn. “Can you refill the water there? They make such a mess.”
Apparently, Rachel’s willingness to chat also included a desire to order Eva around. Whatever. If it kept her relatively happy and opened her up, Eva would do it.
When she was done cleaning the birdbath and refilling the water, Eva wandered back to the bench and sat down with a sigh.
Although Rachel didn’t open up again and talk, they sat in relative quiet until Eva’s watch chimed that it was a half hour before noon. “We should probably head in. It’s almost lunchtime.”
The girl nodded her head. “I guess so.”
Eva stood and unlocked the brakes on the wheelchair. “What are you thinking about lunch?” She pushed the chair across the lawn and wheeled it up the ramp, only stopping to maneuver the door open. The hinges whined in displeasure as she forced it as wide as it could go, then she pulled the chair back indoors.
When Eva spun Rachel around, she frowned as the basement door popped open. It should have been locked, per Sarah’s instructions. “Why is that open?” she asked out loud but didn’t expect Rachel to answer.
“It shouldn’t be.” Rachel sounded confused and even annoyed. “It should be locked.”
“Stay here.” Had someone snuck in the front door? She approached the door. Aged wooden stairs led down to a dimly lit basement. A dirty stone wall foundation faced her, and a single light bulb with a pull string gleamed at her.
“Why is the light on?” Without thinking, she started down the stairs, but she couldn’t see beyond the railing. It was too dark.
“Eva, maybe you shouldn’t go down there!” Rachel’s voice raised an octave.
She turned around just in time to see her wheel dangerously close to the edge. “I’ll be fine, please back up. I’m just going to—”
Something clattered to the ground, and it sounded as if it were rolling closer to the stairs. Eva gritted her teeth and continued down into the basement. The weak light hardly illuminated any sort of path, but from what she could see, the floor was red clay, and she assumed the floor spread the length of the house.
Eva stopped walking when she bumped into something hard. She patted at it, feeling the cold metal under her hand. “Oh, stupid . . .” she muttered to herself, then reached into her back pocket and grabbed her phone.
She turned the light on and gawked at the cage. There was a pile of clothes in it. A pair of jeans and sneakers. Next to it, a smaller cage with a stuffed animal inside. Strange . . .
Eva moved her hand, following the light’s path. Nothing but cobwebs greeted her.
“Eva, I’m scared. Come back up here,” Rachel called to her, sounding as if she were on the verge of tears.
It must have been a rat. Something was bound to squeeze through the cracked foundation. Yet, despite telling herself that, her neck prickled with the feeling that someone or something was watching her—and waiting. The more she thought about it, the faster her heart pounded.
Without looking over her shoulder, she rushed toward the stairs again and tried to calm herself. But she couldn't swallow, and it was hard to focus on climbing the stairs.
“You shouldn’t have gone down there, Eva,” Rachel crooned and leaned forward. “You were told not to.”
Heat crept up Eva’s neck, and then, like a switch, it fled her body, leaving her cold and clammy. “Rachel.” She forced her name out, then on the last stair, she saw the floor rise to meet her, and all went black.