Golden Box Book Publishing One Picture: Thousands of Words | Page 61

She nodded again. “You took the words right out of my head,” she
answered.
Yes. Time was ticking on and wouldn't wait for her anymore. Her
stomach began doing loopty loops. She wished her father was here.
He would know just what to say. Just what to do. Being a Guardian,
he always did.
The walk through the kitchen brought back emotions she forgot
she could still have. The countless hours spent dying Easter eggs,
frosting cakes and churning ice cream seemed like a distant dream.
And yet as she ran her hand along the cracked kitchen table, those
moments came rushing back.
Mother was kind and gentle in those days. Back before that night.
She unlatched the door that led to the basement. Out of habit, she
reached up and yanked on the string attached to a single light bulb
that hung just beyond the door frame. The familiar click of the light
switch echoed down the still blackened steps. She rolled her eyes. Of
course. There was no power.
Taking ginger steps, she descended the creaky staircase into the
belly of the old house. Her eyes zeroed in on a faint amber light
glowing like a beacon in the corner of the basement.
“She said you'd come,” the voice mumbled. “said you'd do
anything to steal the tower.”
Her heart fluttered with nervous adrenaline. How did this stranger
know about the tower? Mother had no friends. No confidants to
harbor her black secrets. The realization made her blood chill.
There was only one.