Free Unbreak My Heart by Teresa Hill Page A

worked to separate the sounds of her own pounding heart and labored breathing from the rest of the sounds around her.
    There was something... Above her. On the second floor? The third?
    It could be nothing but a mouse. Anything could have gotten in, she told herself. Anyone. It would be just her luck that the house sat here empty and undisturbed for two and a half years, and someone would pick the week she came back to break in.
    She threw back the makeshift covers and padded into the hallway, turning on lights as she went. Upstairs, nothing moved, except a bit of dust floating on a ray of sunshine.
    Dust didn't move by itself, did it?
    She tried to fight off the sense of dread she felt at the thought of walking up those stairs and into any of the bedrooms.
    She put her foot on the first step, had a death-grip on the banister. Her heart was thundering, drowning out everything else, and she felt feverish one minute, cold and clammy the next.
    She couldn't go up there, she realized. She just couldn't.
    Allie sat down instead on the bottom step, and then scooted down onto the floor. She was such a coward she just sat there until she realized that the noises overhead had ceased. She didn't have to go up there. Not yet.
    She walked back into the family room, where she'd slept. Last night she'd been unnerved by the big, tall windows facing the backyard, bordered by a solid line of trees and vegetation. The house backed up to the creek that flowed into the river just past Stephen's house, and on the other side of the creek was an equally tall, thick stand of trees. No one lived back there. No one could see in the windows. But as she lay there trying to go to sleep, she felt as if she were being watched. As if someone was waiting to see what she would do. If she would run away in the middle of the night or if she would stick it out and finally find the answers she sought.
    She'd double-checked all the locks on all of the doors and windows. One window in the family room had been unlatched. Of course, it could have been that way for years, but it left her feeling even more uneasy.
    The moon had been out, shining through the trees in the backyard, casting all sorts of intriguing shadows through the room. There was a bit of wind, and every now and then she heard something thump up against the house, probably just a tree that needed pruning. Nothing more. She'd told herself quite firmly that she'd be fine in the morning, in the bright light of day, and what had she gotten? Footsteps.
    Allie raked a hand through her hair and resolved to do better from here on out. To be calmer, more logical, and not so on-edge. She had to make a plan and stick to it. Even if it was merely to search the house room by room, starting with the first floor, packing and sorting as she went. It all had to be done. If there was something here—some clue as to what happened to them all, she would find it eventually. She wasn't leaving until she did. Maybe when the first floor was done, she'd find the courage to walk up those stairs and start on the second.
    She felt calmer, more determined. Heading through the back hall toward the kitchen, she discovered the little piano tucked into the alcove under the grand staircase. She and Megan had spent hours here. Flipping back the lid, ignoring the cloud of dust rising from the keys, she softly played a scale, finding the instrument badly out of tune, the off-key notes echoing through the house.
    Closing her eyes, she thought she could see her sister here, sitting on the piano bench. Her long brownish-blonde hair hanging down her back, her thin arms stretched out toward the keys, fingers spread wide to reach the notes of the last chords. She was smaller than Allie remembered, thinner, more delicate, looking as if a stiff breeze could pick her up and carry her away.
    Allie sensed something in the memory that suddenly turned so vivid, something waiting for her. She looked at Megan's hands moving across the keyboard. Her