The Haunting Read Free Page B

law.”
    “Graymoss has been left to Mrs. Anne Starling conditionally,” the lawyer reiterated. “That means she must—”
    “We know what
conditionally
means,” Grandma snapped. “Just what are these conditions?”
    “That Graymoss must continue to be cared for,” Mr. Clayton answered. “If Mrs. Starling can’t agree to this, then possession of the house and property passes to Mrs. Starling’s daughter, Lia Starling, to be held in trust for her until her twenty-fifth birthday.”
    I started in surprise. “To me? Graymoss?” I could see myself in my daydream again, rocking and reading on the quiet veranda. “Wow!” I whispered to myself.
    “That’s ridiculous! The house
must
be destroyed!” Grandma insisted.
    “Wait a minute,” Mom interrupted. I could tellshe’d been thinking hard, because her eyes were wide. “Graymoss is a large place. About how many rooms, would you guess?”
    “What has the number of rooms got to do with anything?” Grandma asked.
    “It has to do with making a dream come true! If the house is in good condition, or can be repaired without too much expense, I know what we must do.”
    I sucked in my breath. I knew Mom’s dream, and I didn’t like it one little bit.
    Grandma said, “If you’re talking about that notion you and Derek have of adopting a houseful of what are considered unadoptable children—”
    “That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” Mom exclaimed, grinning and clapping her hands like a little kid. I was embarrassed, but she didn’t seem to care.
    “But you can’t, Anne! I told you, Graymoss is evil!”
    Mr. Clayton raised an eyebrow and looked at Grandma as if she’d just claimed there were UFOs on the roof. “Evil? You have firsthand knowledge of some kind of evil?”
    Grandma turned red. She looked down at her hands and said, “This is very complicated—it’s family business.”
    “I don’t believe in ghosts,” Mom said firmly. “But I do believe in trying to bring happiness to as many children as possible.”
    I groaned. I could see what was going to happen. The quiet rooms, the peaceful veranda—forget it. Graymoss was going to be filled with a crowd of noisy kids for Mom and Dad to care for.
    “I can’t wait to call Derek and tell him the news,” Mom said.
    Mr. Clayton broke in. “Don’t rush into anything,” he said. “There’s one more condition to meet. Before you agree to accept Graymoss you must read Charlotte Blevins’s diary.”
    Grandma looked smug. “The diary. That’s right. Read it, and you’ll soon change your mind about wanting to live in that house. All the others did.”
    “The others?”
    “Elizabeth, Sarah, and even Charlotte herself. Why do you think none of the women in our family ever resided in Graymoss?”
    “Because they were scared?” I asked. The mental banner I’d created for the Women Who Are Exceptionally Brave began to fray. I didn’t mind.
    Grandma frowned at me. “Not
scared
, merely sensible.”
    Mom looked at Mr. Clayton. “Have you read Charlotte’s diary?”
    “No, I haven’t,” he answered. “I am in possession of it now, but the contents of the diary are private.”
    “It’s private because it tells of the terrible evil within the house,” Grandma said.
    Mr. Clayton held out a book covered in padded cloth. Once it must have had a flower pattern in bright colors, but now it was faded, and there were ragged threads at the edges.
    Mom didn’t move, but suddenly I found myself standing up. I reached across the desk and took the diary from Mr. Clayton.
    Maybe it was because I wasn’t like the otherwomen in the family. Or maybe it was because I read. Or maybe it was because I did believe in ghosts. I sat back down in my chair, the book in my hands, and I shivered with excitement.
    I planned to read the diary before Mom ever got a chance to, so that she couldn’t tell me not to read it. If there really was evil in Graymoss, I wanted to find out where it had come from. In