7
WILLOW
When I’d first arrived and chosen a bedroom, I couldn’t pick the biggest, the one that Adam Shefield had used the fifty-plus years he’d lived in the house. His clothes still hung in the closet, his slippers tucked beneath the side of his bed.
Instead, I chose a smaller one down the hall, which turned out to be a good thing since it had rained overnight, and there was a small puddle on the floor in the big bedroom. It appeared the roof had a leak. I had to assume it was a new thing, but it would need to be fixed right away. Roof damage, especially bad enough to have water come all the way through a ceiling, could destroy a house.
A money pit, definitely.
I’d learned the guy had never married or had kids, which was why Natalie, being a great-niece, inherited. Also, because they
