Samantha approached the steps of the old house with caution. The place had a strange kind of beauty, the brick-colored stone had been painted, in places pealing. Huge blue and pink hydrangeas flanked the steps, and craning her neck upward, she could see at fairly close range the handsome turret embedded in the second story of the house. Leaning over the high corners were stone gargoyles with twisted smiles. Was that fair warning? she wondered with a nervous shiver.
Samantha had observed this house for as long as she’d lived in the adjacent neighborhood, wondering how it would feel to be inside, to step back into the past. She’d get her chance today. She worried she’d be disappointed—in the house, in Peter, in her own passionate obsession. Had it been just a kink of convenience, or was he
