I slammed the visor shut as Jack slowed to take the exit. I laid my head against the window and watched as the landscape changed from desolate highway to farmland. Bundles of hay resembling fluffy marshmallows speckled the sprawling fields. The smell of manure filled the car and I quickly rolled the window up, covering my nose and holding my breath.

“Geez, Grace. Warn me next time, will you?” Jack grinned.

I rolled my eyes. “Gross.”

A murder of crows dotted the black wires of the power lines. I counted as we drove. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

I silently recalled the rhyme my mother had taught me.

One for sorrow

Two for joy

Three for a wedding

Four for a boy

Five for silver

Six for gold

Seven for a secret, never to be told

We drove along the water’s edge. A few small boats, not yet stored for the winter, were docked in the harbour. It was all so familiar. The hill we used to climb, where I’d fallen more than once and skinned my knees. The pond where we swam, fearful that eels would coil themselves around our ankles and pull us into the depths. The wharf we’d cast off from, reeling in our lines only to discover we had nabbed another sculpin, before promptly unhooking and returning the bottom-feeder to the sea.

As we approached that final corner, I noticed a cottage overlooking the headland was being torn down. The top half was stripped to its bare bones, only studs and corners remaining, while the first storey was perfectly intact. I remembered how my mother had frequently sent me there to borrow a cup of sugar or a block of butter. I wondered what had happened to the family.

I was jolted back to the present as my old home came into view.

“Right here.” I lifted my hand to point, and felt my entire arm go numb.

Inhale. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

Jack pulled into the driveway.

Exhale. One. Two. Three—

“Whoa,” Jack interrupted my silent counting. “Looks like the set of a horror movie. It’s so different from what I remember.”

The jungle gym was collapsing in on itself, rotten and buckled to the right. The yellow slide had detached and was lying on the ground nearby. The grass on the lawn was wilder and taller than I’d seen before. My father’s chainsaw was sitting alongside the barn, covered in rust.

The evergreens in the driveway had grown larger, their limbs scraping the car door as I opened it. I made my way toward the entrance, peering into the window of my father’s office as I passed by. The lace curtains were drawn but I could see the outline of a bookcase overflowing with dusty novels.

The orange-red paint on the house was chipped and peeling. A consistent, rhythmic buzzing overhead caught my attention. I looked up and noticed a small papery wasp nest, swirled with greys and browns.

“Careful.” I pointed to the nest as Jack approached. “Looks like someone else has moved in.”