Chapters (75)
- Cover
- Back Cover Text
- Praise
- Booklist
- About the Author
- Dedication
- Quote
- Prologue
- Part One
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- Part Two
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- Part Three
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- Part Four
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- Part Five
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- Part Six
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- Part Seven
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- Part Eight
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- Part Nine
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- Part Ten
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- Part Eleven
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- Part Twelve
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- Part Thirteen
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- AUTHOR NOTE
- Reader’s Guide
- Questions for Discussion
- The Heirloom Garden
- Abby
Before we can move, Lily races down the stairs and over to the fence separating this yard from the one next door. She clambers atop a large river rock and jumps up to grab a big shepherd’s hook jutting off the side of the wooden fence, where it looks like a hanging plant once was located. She tries to climb up the fence like a squirrel, her sneakers raking against the wood.
“Lily!” I yell. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
She jumps down.
“Mom,” she whines.
“She’s a bit of a tomboy,” I say to Pam, who cannot hide her disappointment.
Lily presses her face between the tiny slats in the fence. “Whoa!” she says. “You have to see this!”
I walk over to where Lily is standing and position my right eye against a minuscule opening and squint. Beyond the fence is a garden that resembles one of my own chemical experiments. There are dozens of stakes with small flags attached, and they are fluttering in the breeze. Daylily stalks are everywhere, and there is something odd attached to them that I can’t quite figure out.
Little is in bloom this early in the season, but I can only imagine what is to come.
I reposition myself and try to peer farther into the yard, but it’s too narrow and strains my eye. The one thing I can make out right in front of me, however, is a beautiful arbor with a trellis that looks as if it not only might grow roses but might also have been a pathway between these two houses.
I feel the fence shaking. I look up to see Lily trying to scramble up it again.
“Lily!” I yell.
She hops back to the ground and sprints toward the porch.
“Why don’t I show you the house?” Pam asks again. “You just have to see that view.”
“Of course,” I say.
I turn and walk toward the little flagstone pathway leading to the house. Before I head up the stairs, I look back at the neighboring house.
A curtain moves, nearly imperceptibly, upstairs. I take one step, stop and look again. The window is not open, but the curtain is still swaying slightly.
I take another step, turn on a dime and narrow my eyes behind my glasses.
A shadow flutters and then disappears.
Copyright © 2019 by Viola Shipman