All the Colors of the Dark — Chapter 243

243

Patch waited five minutes, knocked a dozen times, and then peered through a window hazed by seasons, where algae clung to the copings.

Inside he saw bare floors, a large reception room where wildflowers stood in empty milk bottles, the only sign of warmth in a room where wood shutters were propped against tall windows so thin Patch could only imagine the bite of winter.

Another window and he saw wallpaper heaped by baseboard and left there to yellow by the sun. He moved along sunken beds where no flowers or weed grew, and he cupped his hands to the glass and saw more empty rooms in shades of disrepair, one with a couple of paint cans beside the feet of a wooden ladder.

Down the side of the house he came to stone jardinieres and purple wildflower and a small water feature that had long since dried out.

The grass had been cut, but the size of the grounds was overwhelming, and in the distance Patch saw two barns, and beyond that hills that followed a wide arc around the land.

He tried the back door but found it locked, and through a cracked glass pane saw a kitchen counter lined with jars and pots of homemade jams and preserves. He saw a stove. He saw signs of life.

He was about to circle the house when he heard the faint crackle of

thunder.

Patch looked up as the storm moved in.

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