Angel Number

ᒿᒿᒿ

Once inside, the "cottage" was sprawling. The foyer seemed to be longer than the entire width of the cottage as seen from the outside. It was fit with an aged rug embroidered with twisting flowers of scarlet and azure, deep oak walls, and lily-shaped lamps that curled out from the perimeter of the hall. Tapestries were strung every few feet. I paused to admire a dappled depiction of a woman knitting before a fireplace. I squinted my eyes at her delicate flats, etched with the same rose symbol I observed on the key. I'll ask Delilah about that later, I noted.

The kitchen was even more spacious, with the same sturdy wood floors, a table, and arrays of cupboards with crystal handles. Nonetheless, the space appeared to be neglected- there was no food in the cupboards, only a thick swath of dust that coated every surface. There were trios of candles that were assorted throughout the space, snuffed out.

"What...is this place?" I questioned, tracing my slender fingers across a bushel of wilted roses. A lot of roses, that's strange.

"It's the founder of Cross Academy's old place. For a while, his descendants would live in here until they passed away. A family heirloom..." Delilah began.

Melody's eyes were wide, swirls of green that were equally fascinating as they were terrifying. She dove towards me, her wings fanning through the stagnant air.

"But there's a rumor..." her voice was hushed and tinged with exhilaration.

"I've heard whisperings from Delilah, apparently the reason why the descendants abruptly stopped living here is because...well..." she stared into space, mesmerized by the wilted roses that hung lifelessly from a cupboard knob.

"It's said that..." I grew impatient, my heart thumping in my chest.

"Get on with it already!" I rasped.

"It's said that nearly a hundred years ago, the youngest daughter living here committed suicide. They found her fragile body swaying in the wind, suspended from the rafters. She'd hung herself..." Melody's freckled face was mere inches from mine, her eyes observing my brown ones too close. I felt a chill rush down my spine.

"Strange isn't it?" She whispered.

A ridge formed between Delilah's eyebrows. She swatted her hand, embezzled with thin golden rings across the back of Melody's mess of blonde curls. "Key word: rumors. You know how kids talk. They love to make simple things sound bigger than they are. The reason why they stopped living here is one of their sons- Emmett Cross tired of this simple cottage and wanted to build a castle for himself. I'll show it to you after school starts," Delilah insisted. She seemed certain that this was truth. Of course it was. It was the reasonable explanation, after all. But still, the image of the girl's small body hanging like a ragdoll from her roped demise flashed in my brain.

"Yeah...of course. But are we really allowed to like...camp out here?"

"No one said we couldn't," Melody concluded.

Delilah started up the stairs, her cottony nightgown draping dreamily behind her, highlighting the fierce red of her waist-length curls. "There's something I wanna show you guys." A grin grew across her face.

"What?" demanded Melody.

"You'll see."

Contrary to the measly height of the cottage as seen from the outside, the staircase spiraled up towards a square hatch at the top. It was hard to believe that Emmett would reject such a complex home.

I folded in my wings, hoisting myself through the narrow hatch. We were swept into yet another corridor, this time lined with identical doors, none of which I dared touch.