“Ash, please. Don’t start with that stuff. Not now.”

“Let me know if you do. We can charge extra for those rooms.” She grinned.

“And what will we charge for the rooms with no floors?” Laurel chewed cold sausage. No matter how long she held it to the flames, it wouldn’t heat. The house and everything in it had committed to cold.

“You have no imagination, Laurel. You see the place the way it is now, and I see what it will be. Give me a few months, and this place will be swank. People will pay top dollar to stay here. And extra for ghosts.”

Laurel shook her head. Her teeth started to chatter.

“We’re going to need more firewood,” Ash said.

“This whole place is firewood.” Laurel tossed a scrap of debris into the hearth.

The flames surged.

“Laurel, go to bed. You sound like a cranky toddler.”

“I just think this place is a mistake, okay? Yes, it’s a neat building. The location is gorgeous. But I don’t think you’re going to get it fixed up in time for the summer tourists, and I definitely don’t think Mom left us enough money to make it into what you want.” She didn’t think all the money in the world could fill the pit of her sister’s wants. It had been a long time since she, herself, had dared to want anything. Wanting was too close to hoping. “And I should have more say in it.”

Ashley set down her dinner and folded her hands in her lap like an elementary teacher. “Mom left you no say for a reason, Laurel.”

“Damn it, Ash, she wrote that will two years ago. I’ve been sober ever since, and Tyler’s gone. Things are different now, and I deserve a chance to make some decisions about my future. Just because she left you everything doesn’t make you the new Mom!” Look after your sister. You’re in charge. Set an example. Mom had always left Laurel in charge. Just because she had failed miserably didn’t mean they had to trade roles.

“Let’s talk more about it tomorrow, okay? After sleep. You can take a look at the shop building. That space is all yours, remember? Whatever you want in there, we can make it happen.”

Laurel got up and walked toward the grand staircase. The light from the fire behind her cast her shadow dancing along every step. As she turned onto the landing, she thought she could hear the hiss of whispers from below—the way Mom and Ash would whisper whenever she left a room—secret judgements they thought she couldn’t hear, or maybe they knew she could and wanted it that way, wanted her to know they disapproved of her.

Or perhaps it was just the snap of the fire.