Chapter 3: Who is it?

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A few days later, I was at the house again, helping Ethan with some restoration work. We were in the kitchen, sanding down old cabinets and chatting about our plans for the future. It felt natural, easy, as if we had been doing this for years.

Suddenly, there was a commotion outside. We looked out the window to see a car pulling up in front of the house. Three kids tumbled out, laughing and shouting, their parents following close behind.

Ethan frowned, wiping his hands on a rag. "I wasn't expecting visitors today."

We went to the front door, opening it just as the family approached. The parents looked frazzled, trying to keep their energetic kids in check. "Hi there," the father said, smiling apologetically. "We were just passing through and saw the sign for the shop downstairs. Mind if we take a look?"

Ethan welcomed them in, showing them to the small shop on the ground floor. It was filled with antique knick-knacks and vintage items, a little treasure trove of forgotten memories. The kids darted around, picking up items and asking questions, their excitement contagious.

As the parents browsed, the youngest child, a little girl with curly hair and big blue eyes, wandered off. I found her in the living room, staring at a portrait of Ethan's great-grandfather. She looked up at me, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Who is he?" she asked.

"That's Ethan's great-grandfather," I explained, kneeling down to her level. "He built this house a long time ago."

She nodded solemnly, as if taking in the weight of that information. "It's a very big house."

"Yes, it is," I agreed, smiling at her. "Would you like to see more of it?"

Her face lit up with excitement. "Yes, please!"

I led her on a mini-tour, showing her some of the rooms we had explored before. She was fascinated by everything, asking endless questions and marveling at the old, creaky furniture and dusty books. She reminded me of myself when I first stepped into this house, full of wonder and curiosity.

Just as we were about to head back to the shop, we heard a loud crash from the driveway. Rushing outside, we saw another car had pulled up, and in the confusion, it had bumped into the family's car. The parents were frantic, trying to sort out the situation, while the kids watched in wide-eyed silence.

In the chaos, no one noticed that the little girl had wandered off again. It wasn't until the other car had driven away and the family was getting ready to leave that we realized she was missing.

Panic set in as we searched the house, calling her name. Finally, we found her in the owl's den, standing under the ancient tree, looking up at the sleeping owls.

"I found the owls," she said proudly, pointing to the black and white owls at the center of the tree.

Ethan and I exchanged a worried glance. "Let's get you back to your parents," he said gently, taking her hand.

As we walked back to the front of the house, another car pulled up, identical to the first one. A woman stepped out, looking relieved as she spotted the little girl. "There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you."

Ethan and I handed her over, but as the car drove away, something didn't feel right. The woman had seemed off, her smile a little too bright, her eyes a little too cold.

We stood there, watching the car disappear down the street, a sense of unease settling over us. "Do you think we did the right thing?" I asked, voicing my concern.

Ethan nodded slowly. "I hope so. But we'll have to keep an eye out, just in case."

To Be Continuedd...

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