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Back Gallows Hill Save as PDF
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“I fear Uncle Ephraim will hide us all and take the house. He has wanted our home for a long time, Papa said. I fear he will hide us in a place we will never be found.”

That was an uncomfortable strike of perceptiveness. There had been a search of the property, but the original Hull family had never been uncovered.

“I am writing this all down so that, should this night be my last, he will not be able to escape from his crimes. I hear them on the stairs now, opening doors as they search for me. I will hide my journal here and pray that someone might discover it. When you do, bring it to the town. Let Uncle Ephraim’s wickedness be known. May God be with us.”

There was a date beneath. November 26, 1772.

Margot slid her knife beneath that page, prying it free, but she already knew that would be the last entry in the journal. The rest of the book was empty. The youngest daughter had achieved what she’d wanted: hiding the journal in a place her uncle wouldn’t find it. But that had come at the cost of the message remaining hidden for more than two hundred years.

More than two hundred years…

She stared at the date in the journal, then opened her phone to double-check the date there. “Oh,” she managed, then she was on her feet, journal clutched protectively under one arm as she pressed through the front door and raced down the hill.

Sore muscles in her legs ached as she pushed them to jog, but Margot barely noticed. Her mind ran in circles, picking at the problem that was Gallows Hill, a furious pit of hope burning in her chest even as doubt tried to flood over it. Doubt that she’d gotten it wrong. Doubt that this was bigger than she could handle.

At the staff buildings, she turned right to find the accommodations. Nora said she and Ray would be in the final house along the row. They were small but tidy buildings, modern and with space for a small garden around them. Margot followed them, arms folded around herself, until she came to their end.

The last house had its lights on. Soft conversation floated through an open window, which abruptly cut out as Margot climbed the front step. The door opened before Margot even had a chance to knock.

“Margot! What a surprise!” Nora was smiling, but Margot could tell it took effort.

“I’m really sorry to disturb you.” Margot cleared her throat. “Especially with…everything that’s happened. But no one knows the estate or its history as well as you do. And I think I’ve found something.”

A chair creaked, and then a familiar voice said, “Margot.”