Sadness gripped onto Brittany’s smile, dimming her light just a little. She nodded. “Of course. I think that’s the only one for sale in the area. Lyla and I were best friends. We’d known each other since elementary school and were excited to run our businesses together. We made sure our bed and breakfasts were on opposite sides of town, so we wouldn’t be direct competitors, and worked together to make the area a hot spot for tourists. What happened to her and Richard… It’s beyond tragic.”
“It is,” Clara agreed. “I’m sorry for your loss. When something so unexpected and awful happens, it can certainly tear through a community. It must be so difficult to deal with.”
“It is. We’re all still learning how to cope. It must be frightening living in that house now. A horror story come to life.”
“It is unsettling,” Clara admitted. “It’s not ideal to run a bed and breakfast in a house where children were murdered. But we’re going to try to create something good out of such a tragedy. Bad things happen everywhere. Tragedy isn’t tied to a specific place.”
“Yes, but…” Brittany’s voice softened as she moved closer to Clara. The look in her eyes made Clara uneasy about her decision to buy the house. “A lot of people think the house is haunted.”
“Haunted?”
“Yes, haunted. I know it sounds silly and maybe even a bit naïve, but I kind of believe it. Even though we have yet to find Lyla and Richard, the consensus is they killed their children, then ran off. I know for certain that my best friend would never do anything like that. However, it seems to be the only explanation.
“If they did murder their children, there had to be some sort of dark force compelling them to do so. Before all this happened, Lyla was acting rather… peculiar. She claimed she saw a figure in the shadows sometimes, that odd things were happening in the house. She said the lights would randomly go off on their own, then turn back on again before they could figure out what caused it in the first place. She said things were being moved around the house when no one touched them. Near the end she admitted she was hearing voices. It seemed her state of mind was really spiraling.
“I alternated between being worried someone was stalking her, and worried that her mental state was deteriorating. I’m still not exactly sure what caused the break, but she seemed so rational when I first met her, so I’m convinced there was something supernatural going on. Many of us think the ghosts worked their way into their minds, driving them crazy enough to kill their children. I know it sounds unbelievable, and maybe it is. But I don’t know, it’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”
Clara didn’t know how to respond. It was unbelievable. She suspected that it was difficult for Brittany to come to terms with the fact that her friend had done something so awful, so she made up an excuse that was easier to face instead. It would hurt less to believe ghosts were involved, rather than accepting someone she loved was cruel enough to murder her own children.
She understood it, but Clara had the benefit of looking at the situation without the innate bias the other people in town had. Even the most normal-looking people were capable of the worst things, and it wouldn’t be the first time someone shocked the world with their cruelty.
She wasn’t one to judge though, and she didn’t want to hurt Brittany further by invalidating her beliefs. If thinking ghosts were behind the gruesome murders helped her cope, then Clara wasn’t going to even attempt to interfere with that.
“That is frightening to think about,” Clara said. “If ghosts were the driving force behind the murders, I certainly wouldn’t want to deal with them. But that’s why we’re going to make changes. We’re going to infuse the house with new, good energy. Just wait and see. My husband and I are strong, we can take on any supernatural spirits.”
“I hope so,” Brittany said. “Now, onto better thoughts. It’s time to start the meeting!”
13
While Clara made connections at the book club, Ezra worked on bringing the remaining things in from their car; the kinds of special things they didn’t trust the movers with. It was a beautiful day, aside from it being a little colder than he’d like. It wasn’t so bitter it was unpleasant being outside, and the cloudless sky brought in some much-needed light.
With the mountains around him, Ezra could shake off that nagging feeling of his father’s disapproval and enjoy being here. Clara was right of course. It didn’t matter what his father would think anyway. This was what he wanted. This was what he loved, and they couldn’t have made a better choice for their family.
As he was bringing in a box of photos, a young man came walking up from the road. He was lean, tall, with brown hair that had just a hint of red in it, and freckles to further speak to his Irish roots. He waved to Ezra, then approached him with a smile.
“Good afternoon,” he said. “Anything I can help you with?”
Ezra wasn’t a huge fan of accepting help from other people, but since Clara was making an effort to get to know their neighbors, he thought he should try as well.
“That’d be great,” he said. “I think there’s one more box left in the trunk.”
He grabbed the last box and followed Ezra into the house.
“Thanks for your help,” Ezra said as they walked into the living room. He put the boxes down and turned. “I’m Ezra. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nathaniel,” he replied, accepting Ezra’s handshake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been curious about who would take this place over.”
Nathaniel looked at the house in a knowing sort of way. It seemed like he was oddly familiar with
