Finding Midnight Read Free

she didn’t watch her step. She found the keys again to
unlock the cottage door. The whole time, Tori jabbered on about how
great the manor, the grounds, and the “cute” cottage were.
    Summer found a wall switch inside the
doorway and flipped it up, revealing the contents of the room.
Though it was in dire need of paint, Summer was pleasantly
surprised. It had lots of windows, a tiny stone fireplace, what
looked to be an overstuffed loveseat, a little kitchen and a tiny
table with two chairs. French doors set on one side opened to what
looked like a sun room. Two doors could be seen from where she
stood, one she hoped was a bathroom, and the other she assumed was
the bedroom. Tori flew around the little cottage, flipping on
lights and checking behind doors and cabinets.
    The cottage, though it needed some work, was
actually quite adorable, homey, and somehow comforting. Summer
liked it—she liked it a lot. They heard a toot of a car horn and
Tori asked, “You going to be okay here or should I tell Nick I’m
staying?”
    “No. I’m good. You have fun,” Summer said,
looking around then tossing the manila pouch the sister gave her
and her purse on the sofa.
    “You sure? Because Nick would totally
understand my staying, or he could join us and hang out here to
keep you company,” Tori said.
    “I’m fine; in fact, aside from having a
graveyard a stone’s throw away, I like it. Might even start a fire
and read a book.”
    “Okay. If you are positive,” Tori said,
eyeing Summer closely. When she determined she was indeed okay, she
hugged her and said, “See you tomorrow.”
    “Thanks for everything, Tori. Have fun.”
    “We will,” she said as the door shut on her
last word.
    Summer took a detailed inventory of her
surroundings as she walked through the house alone. Wispy, sheer
white curtains in the bedroom covered French doors to a porch
facing the woods. The bed was an old, warm-colored walnut with a
high headboard that didn’t squeak when sitting on the mattress. She
liked this point so much that she bounced up and down on the bed in
pure delight not to hear the ear-piercing sounds to which she had
grown so accustomed.
    An ancient but lovely quilt covered the bed
and it was obvious Sister Margaret had fluffed the pillows and made
the bed, for there on the pillow was an orange M&M—her
signature mark (every Christmas Sister Margaret set a single
M&M on each of the girl’s pillows in the orphanage). Summer
smiled as she slipped the M&M quickly into her mouth.
    She unpacked her few belongings into the
dresser and closet, then lit a couple huge altar candles the nuns
obviously brought to put on the grate of the fireplace—a pretend
fire in May.
    She made her way to the kitchen, unsure of
what she might find. The cabinets were thick with old paint and
needed a good yank to reveal their contents. Whether from the
sisters or the owner of the cottage, she had everything she needed,
dishes, utensils, a few pots, and an ancient old gas stove. Someone
had even supplied her with a small microwave you might find in a
dorm room. Checking the fridge to see what the sisters had
provided, she found it was obvious Sister Margaret had someone else
do the shopping since there was food other than fruits and
vegetables.
    She found macaroni and cheese, bread, peanut
butter and jelly, and frosted Mini-Wheats for breakfast—food she
might actually eat. Feeling her first night in her new home
deserved a hot meal, she made the mac and cheese, but to make
Sister Margaret happy, she pulled out a small can of French cut
string beans and warmed them in a beat-up old pan. Okay, so they
weren’t FRESH vegetables but they were vegetables, she could argue
with the sister.
    A noise on the porch made her heart lurch.
She slinked to the window to check if someone might be there. She
thought she saw a shadow move. Breath caught in her throat as she
crept silently towards the window for a peek. Her eyes darted to
every dark niche, but she