Stache peered into the room for a moment. “I’ll clean yours first.”
When my dad has a mission, get out of the way. He plunged into spider city with a broom and some garbage bags, and ten minutes later I could actually tell it was a room.
He walked out with a big grin, wiping his hands together. “All yours, sweetie.”
“There’s a spider on your shirt,” I said.
He looked down and squashed it with his hand.
“Ew,” I said, stepping around him and cautiously walking into my room.
It did look spider-free. It was actually a lot bigger than my old bedroom, with a large double window looking out onto the woods behind the house and lots of space for my bed and dresser, along with the new desk my parents had bought me. There was even a walk-in closet. I wasn’t much of a clothes person, but who doesn’t like closet space?
My mom followed me in. She was definitely a clothes person. She liked to do her makeup and hair and always wore lots of jewellery. We didn’t have much in common.
“What did I tell you?” she said, putting her arm around my shoulders. “I made sure you got this room. Haven’t you always wanted a walk-in closet?”
“I guess,” I replied. “I only have, like, ten shirts.”
She smiled. “We’ll buy you more. This is a new start for all of us. You can go to school on Monday and make new friends and leave the miserable bullies in Newcastle behind. This is going to be great, Laura. Trust me.”
I watched as a surviving spider lowered itself from my ceiling.
I looked at my mom, and she forced a smile.
“Eventually.”
When she left, I reluctantly started unpacking my stuff from the small trailer we’d lugged over here. My parents had basically bought all new furniture for the move, and there were already huge boxes scattered around the main floor when we arrived—dropped off by the store. Everything was a bit rushed: we’d only officially gotten possession of the house last week as it had taken the summer to close and finalize everything with the bank, so there wasn’t a lot of prep time. The rest of our stuff had already been moved here through the week by Stache, so all we’d brought with us today were clothes and other random personal possessions. For me that wasn’t much. Besides my clothes, I had some books, a laptop, two big boxes of trophies, and another small box of collectibles—random things that I’d kept, like a pen that was my grandpa’s and an old coin I’d found the night my nana died. I was always close to my grandparents. Just my dad’s mom, Grandma Elly, was left now.
After hauling everything upstairs, I started hanging my clothes up, marvelling at how much space I had now. Walk-in closets were kind of cool. It was definitely old-fashioned though: large white wooden panels covered the bottom half of the closet, while the top half and ceiling were finished with regular plaster. I didn’t even want to know how many spiders had been in here. I shoved the trophy boxes in the bottom corner and was just turning to leave when I noticed something written on one of the panels. I leaned down for a closer look. There were small, crooked words carved into the wood:
It’s not too late.
“Oh…perfect,” I murmured, looking around uneasily. It looked like the words had been carved into the panel with a pocket knife or something. But what did it mean?
Frowning, I shook my head and went to unpack my last box. Just one more creepy thing in a creepy house. Maybe it meant it wasn’t too late to move out of here again. But could my parents be convinced? Judging by the way my dad was basically skipping around the house, I sincerely doubted it. I would just have to try and settle in. Somehow. I left most of my little collectibles in the box, at least until I could get my dresser up here. I did pause and gingerly pick up the old black pen, thinking about my grandpa Roger. I wished he was here. He would have snuck me some German chocolates and laughed about how I could become a biologist here, specializing in spiders. I missed his laugh.
I put the pen back in the box and climbed to my feet, deciding to check out the yard. Maybe there was a pool or something. I walked over to the window and looked outside, scanning the forest that encircled our overgrown backyard. It was mostly tall, narrow oak trees, packed tightly enough that it grew dark just a metre into the woods, even during the daytime. Thick brush filled the space between the trees, as well as squat pines that blocked out much of the sunlight breaking through the overcast sky. It wasn’t a happy-looking forest. I probably wouldn’t be hiking very much.
I was just turning away when I saw a strange flicker of colour. I squinted, trying to peer into the shadows. Leaning close to the glass, my eyes fell on a particularly dark one. As the shadow took shape, the sunlight caught another flash of pale blue. Eyes.
Suddenly the shadow became a recognizable form, and I realized with trembling hands that a man was standing in the forest, staring right at me.
Chapter Three
I froze, unable to scream or move or even look away. The man was tall, but it was difficult to see much else of his face beyond those piercing blue eyes as he was wearing a loose-fitting hood or cowl. The hood flowed back into a long cloak, making his shape indistinguishable as well. But there was no mistaking a second glint of light at his waist, where the tip of a gleaming sword protruded from the cloak. The shadowy figure just stared at me for a long moment,
