Read Online Beautifully Broken by Sherry Soule - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sherry Soule
Ads: Link
raised his newspaper. Jillian cleared the dishes, leaving the room and leaving my dad and me alone. Above the rim of the newspaper, Dad’s eyes met mine.
“Dad?”
He put the newspaper aside. “Yeah, sweetpea?”
I rested my elbows on the table. “Have you heard of the Donovans?”
“Um…yeah, I remember them.” He lifted the newspaper again, unfolded it, and raised it, concealing his face. “Don’t tell me, now that Maxwell and his troublemaker son have returned, the gossip is flying.”
I nodded, leaning over on my elbows. “And?”
Dad lowered the paper. “Trent’s had a hard life, I suppose, despite being privileged. Although, it’s that big house of theirs that gets the most controversy. People say a witch cursed the place in the 1800s. It used to be an institution for troubled children named Ravenhurst.” He sighed. “And I remember an increase in missing persons’ reports when Maxwell Donovan moved into the neighborhood with his wife sixteen years ago and bought the mansion. Rumor had it the disappearances were linked to the house,” he said, his face hidden behind the newspaper again.
Ohhh, not good! I like Trent. I really want the job. Trent’s house might be haunted. There’s some supernatural hit list on the teens in town. Shadow Man and the wraith start stalking me. Everything’s pointing to something big and nasty about to go down. Complicated much?
Dad’s voice disrupted my inner babble. “Folks say Ravenhurst has a… reputation . That it’s evil. People here are oddly superstitious, if you ask me. The Donovans arrival coincided with Sheriff Boyd’s daughter Sarah vanishing and has everyone murmuring about that old witch’s curse. Such baloney.”
“I heard that…” I leaned back in my chair. “Dad, you know how I love architecture, right? I’ve told you how much I love the concept of how inanimate objects such as wood, glass, and iron can be placed together and end up making a home. A place where families are protected and sheltered…and loved.” I turned away, tears filling my eyes. In my heart I wished my own home reflected those characteristics, but it didn’t. Never would.
Dad was quiet, maybe digesting what I’d said. He cleared his throat and said, “Go on.”
“Well, at school I saw this ad for an internship program,” I continued, excitement bubbling deep inside me. The sadness that briefly touched me ebbed away in my rush to explain. “I’ll actually get to help restore a Gothic mansion in town. I recognized the guy’s name, Anthony Evans. He’s overseen most of the restoration on the Victorian homes in San Francisco and Alameda. It would be so epic to work with him! School’s out soon, so I figured I’d apply.”
His body tensed, his hands gripped the newspaper tightly, crumbling the edges. “Sounds like a terrific opportunity, but—”
“What?”
He glanced above the edge of his paper. “It’s Ravenhurst, isn’t it?” When I nodded, he folded the newspaper in half. Inherent sadness sketched on his expression. “That place is…how can I put this?” Dad stroked his chin. “Um, well, a construction zone is no place for a teenage girl. Too dangerous.”
I wanted the job more than anything. The cash would help my college fund, and I might actually be able to study architecture someday like I’d always dreamed about. I could build homes all on my own. Places where people felt warm and loved and safe.
“No, it’s not ,” I argued. “You’re constantly telling me that girls can do anything boys can do. And you just said it’s a terrific opportunity, and it is .” I jerked out of my seat.
Stalking from the room, I didn’t glance back. Didn’t want him to talk me out of it. Although, I heard him mutter, “So damn stubborn,” as I left the kitchen.
My dad was always there for me. Why couldn’t he be there for me now?
I went into the living room and grabbed the phone, dialing the number on the flyer. Anthony Evans
“Dad?”
He put the newspaper aside. “Yeah, sweetpea?”
I rested my elbows on the table. “Have you heard of the Donovans?”
“Um…yeah, I remember them.” He lifted the newspaper again, unfolded it, and raised it, concealing his face. “Don’t tell me, now that Maxwell and his troublemaker son have returned, the gossip is flying.”
I nodded, leaning over on my elbows. “And?”
Dad lowered the paper. “Trent’s had a hard life, I suppose, despite being privileged. Although, it’s that big house of theirs that gets the most controversy. People say a witch cursed the place in the 1800s. It used to be an institution for troubled children named Ravenhurst.” He sighed. “And I remember an increase in missing persons’ reports when Maxwell Donovan moved into the neighborhood with his wife sixteen years ago and bought the mansion. Rumor had it the disappearances were linked to the house,” he said, his face hidden behind the newspaper again.
Ohhh, not good! I like Trent. I really want the job. Trent’s house might be haunted. There’s some supernatural hit list on the teens in town. Shadow Man and the wraith start stalking me. Everything’s pointing to something big and nasty about to go down. Complicated much?
Dad’s voice disrupted my inner babble. “Folks say Ravenhurst has a… reputation . That it’s evil. People here are oddly superstitious, if you ask me. The Donovans arrival coincided with Sheriff Boyd’s daughter Sarah vanishing and has everyone murmuring about that old witch’s curse. Such baloney.”
“I heard that…” I leaned back in my chair. “Dad, you know how I love architecture, right? I’ve told you how much I love the concept of how inanimate objects such as wood, glass, and iron can be placed together and end up making a home. A place where families are protected and sheltered…and loved.” I turned away, tears filling my eyes. In my heart I wished my own home reflected those characteristics, but it didn’t. Never would.
Dad was quiet, maybe digesting what I’d said. He cleared his throat and said, “Go on.”
“Well, at school I saw this ad for an internship program,” I continued, excitement bubbling deep inside me. The sadness that briefly touched me ebbed away in my rush to explain. “I’ll actually get to help restore a Gothic mansion in town. I recognized the guy’s name, Anthony Evans. He’s overseen most of the restoration on the Victorian homes in San Francisco and Alameda. It would be so epic to work with him! School’s out soon, so I figured I’d apply.”
His body tensed, his hands gripped the newspaper tightly, crumbling the edges. “Sounds like a terrific opportunity, but—”
“What?”
He glanced above the edge of his paper. “It’s Ravenhurst, isn’t it?” When I nodded, he folded the newspaper in half. Inherent sadness sketched on his expression. “That place is…how can I put this?” Dad stroked his chin. “Um, well, a construction zone is no place for a teenage girl. Too dangerous.”
I wanted the job more than anything. The cash would help my college fund, and I might actually be able to study architecture someday like I’d always dreamed about. I could build homes all on my own. Places where people felt warm and loved and safe.
“No, it’s not ,” I argued. “You’re constantly telling me that girls can do anything boys can do. And you just said it’s a terrific opportunity, and it is .” I jerked out of my seat.
Stalking from the room, I didn’t glance back. Didn’t want him to talk me out of it. Although, I heard him mutter, “So damn stubborn,” as I left the kitchen.
My dad was always there for me. Why couldn’t he be there for me now?
I went into the living room and grabbed the phone, dialing the number on the flyer. Anthony Evans
Similar Books
