“Let’s go upstairs,” I suggest, though I can feel my courage beginning to drain. We climb the stairs one at a time, testing the boards as we go in case they’re structurally unsound. At the top I turn around and shoot a picture down the stairs toward the front door. Through the crack in the door I can see dusk’s rosy hue. “Huh, we must have left it ajar when we came in.”
(Sorry I missed a post yesterday! Have two today!)
I turn back to face the corridor, and I take Bill’s hand. It’s warm in mine.
He smiles. “You wanna leave?”
I shake my head. “Not yet.”