I muted the volume on my laptop. As soon as I heard their door close, I crept up the stairs, past the portraits and pictures that seemed to come alive in the darkness. The black dog’s big yellow eyes followed me as I hurried by. I went to the turret with a million questions tumbling through my head. Was there really a safe behind the painting, and what could possibly be inside that warranted this kind of secrecy?

A single bulb illuminated the cramped space now that the sun had set, and the portrait of the woman Circe called Medea hung on the wall, looking more ominous than she had in the daytime. Her expression was serious, maybe even angry and her eyes were steely, painted in a way that made me feel like she was looking at me no matter where I stood. I lifted the painting off the nail and set it on the floor. Behind it was a silver wall safe with a combination lock.

I turned the dial. Right, left, right. 7–22–99.

It popped open.

“Please let it be a million dollars,” I said to myself.

A single folder sat inside. It wasn’t thick enough to have a million dollars in it. I was disappointed. I took it out and sat in a rocking chair under the light bulb so I could see.

There were three envelopes in the folder. Each one had my name, and they were numbered one through three. It was the same handwriting as the letter Mrs. Redmond had given me. Clearly this woman, my birth mother’s sister, wanted to communicate with me, but I hesitated. Circe was a stranger. She didn’t know my favorite color, or my favorite food, or that I couldn’t sleep if I had socks on. She didn’t know anything about me and I didn’t know she existed until a few days before. The house was going to help my family, but these letters, whatever they were, felt like a burden I didn’t want.

I shoved the envelopes back in the safe and rehung the picture. As I reached up to turn off the light, something outside the window caught my eye.

There was someone standing in the dark, looking at the house.

I moved closer to the window to get a better look. It was a young woman with a crown of silver-gray hair, blown out in a way that made it look like her head was surrounded by a luminous cloud. I had to blink a few times to make sure I was really seeing her.

She met my gaze like she knew I’d be standing there, staring down at her. She smiled, and I bolted downstairs to tell my parents there was a stranger in the driveway.

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 7

I knocked on my parents’ door.

“Come in,” Mom called.

I opened the door a crack. “There’s someone outside.”