When you visit our website, if you give your consent, we will use cookies to allow us to collect data for aggregated statistics to improve our service and remember your choice for future visits. Cookie Policy & Privacy Policy
Dear Reader, we use the permissions associated with cookies to keep our website running smoothly and to provide you with personalized content that better meets your needs and ensure the best reading experience. At any time, you can change your permissions for the cookie settings below.
If you would like to learn more about our Cookie, you can click on Privacy Policy.
Layla “Uh, is this the address?” I look up, blinking to clear my blurry vision, and see that we’re idling at the rusted front gate to the Gregory Estate. “Yeah, this is it.” “I gotta be honest with you, ma’am. I don’t think my car is going to get down the driveway.” My driver’s not wrong. His sedan practically scrapes the ground as he pulls forward. The decaying concrete juts up in places, forced skyward by the relentless roots cutting through the cement. “It’s fine. I can walk.” “You sure? I could walk you down–” “Don’t worry about it,” I mumble, letting myself out of the car and shutting the door behind me. I take off my heels and rest my bare feet on the cool, solid ground. It feels good. The air is heavy with humidity, but a slight, chilled breeze clears my head enough for my