Read Online The Star Child (The Star Child Series) by Stephanie Keyes - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stephanie Keyes
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preyed on my mind throughout the morning.
There was bread on the counter, and I rooted through the fridge until I found some baked ham slices and cheese to go with it. Marveling, I tasted a small piece of each before constructing my lunch. Everything was organic here—it was wonderful. The food probably came from the farm down the road.
I inhaled the meal; there was simply no other word for it. Then I reached for the envelope. It was warm in my hand, but that was my imagination. My fingers ran over the outside several times, unconsciously wondering what other things I could possibly need to do before opening it. There weren’t any, and I couldn’t put it off any longer.
Dumping the contents onto the kitchen table, several things fell out at once. Groupings of papers stapled together in separate packages and two envelopes, both addressed to me, were deposited on the aged wooden tabletop. My breath hitched as I recognized my mother’s handwriting on one of the envelopes. I pushed it to the side.
Selecting the stack of documents, I noted that it consisted of Gran's will and paperwork on the financial trust that had been set up for me. There was also a copy of the deed to the house and the land. Getting up, I went into a spare room and took my time finding a file folder to store all of the paperwork in for safekeeping. This allowed me to kill a grand total of five minutes.
Next, I opened the first envelope. It contained a small key and a note from Gran. I unfolded the note as I set the key on the table and started to read.
Kellen,
When your mother died, I had suspicions that your father would destroy all of her things. Therefore, I arranged to ship many of her belongings here. I couldn’t save everything, but I thought that you might like to look at what I did keep. Then you can do with everything as you please. The key is to my attic room. I kept everything locked up, in case Stephen visited.
Read the letter from your mother. You need to know her story; it was too late when I found out.
Love,
Gran
Grabbing the unopened items, I took the stairs two at a time to find the attic. It took a while, but I finally located the door in the back of Gran's closet. It wasn't a traditional attic; I think it was once a small third-floor room. With only one child who’d moved out early, they’d never needed the space. Her closet wasn’t original to the house, so Grandda must have built it right over the door to the room above. There was a flashlight on the closet shelf, which I assumed was there for exactly that purpose. Picking it up and switching it to the on position, I pushed roughly on the door and walked up three steps into the room.
And nearly had a heart attack when I saw a lady in white.
Talk about a cliché from every ghost story ever imagined. Okay, it wasn't exactly a lady in white, but it was a white dress hung in a clear protective garment bag from a hook on one of the ceiling beams.
“Holy cow.” Muttering, I tried to get my heart back in working order. I walked stiffly to the windows and pushed them open, letting in air and light. Almost immediately, the room was more inviting.
As I turned to examine the gown more closely, I was brought to a halt by the large trunk sitting on the floor beneath it. A small brass nameplate was affixed to the front of the trunk above the keyhole. The initials printed on it were ACS. Addison Clare St. James. Heart pounding, I kneeled down and slowly released the latch.
The trunk was filled with memorabilia: baby hats, baby shoes, and locks of hair. Everything was labeled in the same hand that wrote my letter. It was creepy. There were photographs of me as a child, my mother and father, Roger, Gran, and many people I didn't know. Old school chums, probably.
The final object was a small glass vial, which upon opening I immediately recognized as my mother’s perfume. It was a vanilla, sugary smell and made me think of freshly baked cookies. The scent surrounded me and I
There was bread on the counter, and I rooted through the fridge until I found some baked ham slices and cheese to go with it. Marveling, I tasted a small piece of each before constructing my lunch. Everything was organic here—it was wonderful. The food probably came from the farm down the road.
I inhaled the meal; there was simply no other word for it. Then I reached for the envelope. It was warm in my hand, but that was my imagination. My fingers ran over the outside several times, unconsciously wondering what other things I could possibly need to do before opening it. There weren’t any, and I couldn’t put it off any longer.
Dumping the contents onto the kitchen table, several things fell out at once. Groupings of papers stapled together in separate packages and two envelopes, both addressed to me, were deposited on the aged wooden tabletop. My breath hitched as I recognized my mother’s handwriting on one of the envelopes. I pushed it to the side.
Selecting the stack of documents, I noted that it consisted of Gran's will and paperwork on the financial trust that had been set up for me. There was also a copy of the deed to the house and the land. Getting up, I went into a spare room and took my time finding a file folder to store all of the paperwork in for safekeeping. This allowed me to kill a grand total of five minutes.
Next, I opened the first envelope. It contained a small key and a note from Gran. I unfolded the note as I set the key on the table and started to read.
Kellen,
When your mother died, I had suspicions that your father would destroy all of her things. Therefore, I arranged to ship many of her belongings here. I couldn’t save everything, but I thought that you might like to look at what I did keep. Then you can do with everything as you please. The key is to my attic room. I kept everything locked up, in case Stephen visited.
Read the letter from your mother. You need to know her story; it was too late when I found out.
Love,
Gran
Grabbing the unopened items, I took the stairs two at a time to find the attic. It took a while, but I finally located the door in the back of Gran's closet. It wasn't a traditional attic; I think it was once a small third-floor room. With only one child who’d moved out early, they’d never needed the space. Her closet wasn’t original to the house, so Grandda must have built it right over the door to the room above. There was a flashlight on the closet shelf, which I assumed was there for exactly that purpose. Picking it up and switching it to the on position, I pushed roughly on the door and walked up three steps into the room.
And nearly had a heart attack when I saw a lady in white.
Talk about a cliché from every ghost story ever imagined. Okay, it wasn't exactly a lady in white, but it was a white dress hung in a clear protective garment bag from a hook on one of the ceiling beams.
“Holy cow.” Muttering, I tried to get my heart back in working order. I walked stiffly to the windows and pushed them open, letting in air and light. Almost immediately, the room was more inviting.
As I turned to examine the gown more closely, I was brought to a halt by the large trunk sitting on the floor beneath it. A small brass nameplate was affixed to the front of the trunk above the keyhole. The initials printed on it were ACS. Addison Clare St. James. Heart pounding, I kneeled down and slowly released the latch.
The trunk was filled with memorabilia: baby hats, baby shoes, and locks of hair. Everything was labeled in the same hand that wrote my letter. It was creepy. There were photographs of me as a child, my mother and father, Roger, Gran, and many people I didn't know. Old school chums, probably.
The final object was a small glass vial, which upon opening I immediately recognized as my mother’s perfume. It was a vanilla, sugary smell and made me think of freshly baked cookies. The scent surrounded me and I
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