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least I’d get to decorate my room how I wanted.
    “Have either of you chosen your room yet? We’ve got a few to pick from.”
    Grant nodded. “I want the other tower room on the second floor.”
    She turned expectantly to me. I shrugged. “Haven’t really decided yet.”
    Mom’s gaze sharpened. “Why not?”
    “Haven’t gotten that far.” The excuse was lame. “This was the fastest move ever, Mom.”
    She sighed. “True. But you’ll have to make up your mind when we get back to the house. I want to get you both settled in rooms as soon as we can. The rest of the house can be messy, but you need your own spaces.”
    “Sure thing.”
    Mom moved ahead and Grant fell back. “You didn’t even put up a fight for it.”
    “I don’t want to be on the second floor.”
    He stared. “You want to be on the third? Or in the attic?”
    I snorted. “Hardly. I was hoping for a room on the first floor.”
    Grant stared hard at me for a moment. “I could ask why, but I don’t want to know. It’ll probably freak me out.” I didn’t answer and he shrugged. “You could turn the back study into a room.”
    The image of a dark shadow crossing the doorway made me shudder. “No way. Besides, it’s full of junk. We have enough of our own to move.”
    “Then you’re stuck upstairs.”
     
    ***
     
    Grant, not that I’d ever admit it, was right. Which is why I found myself hauling a bucket of “Island Breeze” turquoise paint up the stairs a few hours later. Despite my apprehension, the prospect of a new room made me sort of happy. Mom had given us each a budget and let us go wild. I’d decided on making mine a tropical oasis.
    Now I had to decide where I wanted to make that happen. Grant chose the room opposite Mom’s planned library, at the back of the house, facing the woods. I crept through the upstairs, tension knotting between my shoulder blades. Even though I felt nothing at the moment, being up here still made me uneasy.
    The room next to Grant’s was open, and the bathroom we would share was next door. I stepped inside, and put down the bucket of paint. The room was bare of anything, but the floors looked like they were in good shape. A huge window ran from the left corner halfway across the room. It even had a window seat built in. Most important, when I turned cautiously in the center of the room, nothing bombarded me. There was no malice I could detect. Not even in the closet, which I forced myself to walk into. This was definitely my room.
    “Well? Is this the winner?” Mom glanced inside the room, already in her painting clothes. She walked in and crossed to the window seat. “I thought you’d like this one.”
    I smiled. “It’s got a window seat, and lots of room for my endless bookcases. What’s not to love?”
    Her grin widened and she clapped her hands. “I knew you’d love it. It’s hard to see past the dirt, but once you do, the possibilities are mind-boggling.”
    When she jumped up and hugged me, I returned the favor. I liked the room. Saying I loved the house might be a bit of a stretch, but I wouldn’t rain on her parade. “Let me go change my clothes and we can get painting.”
    She pushed away and wiped her eyes. “I’m so glad you seem to be warming up to the house. I know it bothers you, somehow.”
    The question in her words hung in the air between us. I ignored it. “Just lots of change this summer. It’ll be okay.”
    She cupped my face in her hands. “You’re a good kid.”
    “You’re only saying that because you want me to help paint Grant’s room,” I teased.
    She laughed and kissed my forehead, releasing me. “Did it work?”
    With a dramatic sigh, I nodded. “I suppose so. Let me go get changed and then I’ll come help.”

Chapter Six
     
    Painting Grant’s room didn’t take long. We wiped down the cobwebs from the corners, spread out a couple of old sheets, and everyone grabbed a roller or brush. Mom cut in all the corners, and we filled in the