“I guess not,” I said, looking at the floor. An entire triplet of leaves had gone in my mouth when I fell, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Lucky,” she said.

“Mo’ll be back soon. What can I do?”

“Nothing, baby,” she said. She gave in and scratched her forearm. Relief spread across her face. “Why don’t you go look around some more? See if the fridge works so we can pick up some groceries. But text Mo and tell her to grab takeout for tonight.”

I went downstairs to explore the kitchen. Everything we needed was there: dishes, glasses, silverware, pots and pans, but the appliances looked as old as the house itself. A huge black contraption with a bunch of rectangular doors on the front was set into a tiled alcove in the rear wall. I sent Mo a text and asked her to grab some food on her way back.

My thoughts wandered to the letter Mrs. Redmond had given me. I took the crumpled note from my pocket and went out onto the front porch. I opened the letter and read the handwritten script.

Dearest Briseis,

I hope this letter finds you well. I realize how strange all this must seem to you, and I am sorry it has come to letters and wills and lawyers. I should have told you these things face-to-face, but it was not meant to be.

I have lived my entire life here in the very house I intend to leave you. I was happy here with Selene. I find it ironic that, even with these gifts, we are not impervious to suffering.

I paused.

“Gifts.”

I hope you will make your home here, because there is no one else this place could belong to. It is yours, by right. There are things that I cannot fully explain. Selene had hoped to save you, but we cannot escape our fate. This was always meant to be.

In the turret, behind the portrait of Medea, you will find a safe. The combination is 7–22–99. More answers will be provided for you there, but you must not, under any circumstances, share the contents of these instructions with anyone. You will have questions, but everything you need to know is contained within these walls. There are, I would imagine, things transpiring in your life that you have questions about—and you may find yourself set apart. Please know that, in time, you will come to understand it all.

Always,

Circe

I stuffed the letter back in the envelope. I was about to run to the turret to see if there really was a safe behind the painting, when the car came up the drive.

Mo parked right in front of the door. “I need a hand, love.”