Free Autumn Thorns by Yasmine Galenorn Page A

around yet. It was an en suite and, like the kitchen, had been renovated since I’d left. A sunken tub had replaced the claw-footed one, and a walk-in shower had been installed, along with marblecountertops on the vanities and a new linen closet. I went through the vanity drawers, but it was easy enough to see that Lila hadn’t kept her journal in there.
    No, the bedroom was the logical place to start. And while I was at it, now was as good a time as any to begin packing up some of their things. The thought left me melancholy, but it had to be done. I couldn’t live in the middle of what had been their lives. I had to make the house my own, even though moving in and taking over meant my grandmother was really dead.
    With a long sigh, I trucked myself back into the kitchen and then out to the back porch, where I’d left a stack of cardboard boxes and a couple of boxes of large trash bags. Clothing would go in the bags, other items in the boxes. I added a roll of strapping tape to my supplies, along with a flashlight and a pair of scissors, and carted everything into the bedroom.
    I decided to start with the dressers. Clothing was easy. There were a few scarves of my grandmother’s that I wanted to keep, and maybe a hat or two, but most of the clothes could be donated. I quickly worked through my grandmother’s dresser, then my grandfather’s. But when I reached the last drawer, though, it seemed to stick. I pulled, hard, and the drawer gave way, coming all the way out. A flurry of handkerchiefs covered the floor as everything went flying.
    Probably needed some oil on the sliders, I thought. But as I stuffed the handkerchiefs into the bag and went to replace the drawer, I saw something in the space between the bottom and the floor. There was a little box there. Cautiously, I flashed the light into the space. No spiders, no vermin. I reached in and lifted the box out, forgetting all about the drawer.
    The case was silver, with a moon and stars embossed on it in a cloisonné design and the box felt . . .
sparkly
 . . . when I touched it. Some sort of energy was attached to it. I held it up, looking for a lock, but there was only a fastener. I carefully eased it open. Inside, a small key nestled on a pillow of black velvet.
    â€œWhat have we here?” I picked the key up, turning it over in my hand. It was long and ornate, embellished with scrollwork, and reminded me of a skeleton key, though the shaft was shorter than usual. It had obviously been important enough to my grandfather to keep safely hidden away. My guess was that my grandmother hadn’t even known it was there.
    A loud shriek startled me and I glanced over at the window. A crow was perched in the great maple overshadowing this wing of the house, and as I watched, the bird swooped off the branch and toward the house, aiming directly at the bedroom window. At the last moment, it pulled a sharp left and disappeared.
    The Crow Man.
He was still watching me, which meant that just returning to Whisper Hollow wasn’t the whole of his message.
    Seeing nothing that might be unlocked by the key, I tucked it back in the box and slipped the box into my pocket. Replacing the drawer, I moved on to the vanity. Most of Lila’s creams and perfumes I kept—they were still good and I liked their scents. When I came to her jewelry box, I slowly opened it. Her wedding ring had been on her finger when they found her, and that I had in my possession. But here were her daily-wear items. Some things were obviously costume; others I wasn’t so sure about. As I stared at the jumble, I decided that I’d just take the whole lot in and have it all appraised. I didn’t want to give away anything without knowing exactly what was there first. I searched for any sign of Avery’s ring, but there was nothing in sight that matched Ivy’s description.
    After that, I fell into a rhythm and the rest of the room went