Page 33 of Dream House
Pen’s still gripping my wrist, waiting.
This is a nut house. The home I grew up in is also a nut house. At least here, I’d have my own room.
“Okay.” I give a resigned nod and let Pen lead me through an old fashioned dining room with a formal dining table into a spacious kitchen. A barefoot kid a little older than Grayson sits at a table, swinging her legs as she colors. She’s eating a bag of Cheetos, and her fingers and the drawing are marked with orange dust.
Then again, she may actually be coloring with the orange dust.
The whirring sound starts up again, and I realize it’s a garage door.
“Maisy, say hi to Lark.”
The kid looks up and stares at me through thick glasses. They make her look bug-eyed, but even bug-eyed, she’s pretty cute.
“Lark sounds like bark.” She makes this pronouncement and stares at me, waiting.
“Maisy sounds like daisy.” Let it be noted for the record that I could have saidcrazy, but she’s just a kid. Besides, it’s not her fault she lives in a nut house.
“Everybody says that,” she mutters, unimpressed.
Damn. I should have gone withcrazy.
“Either that orlazy,” she adds, sounding bored. Then she perks up. “Can I call you Bark?”
“No.”
Her brown eyes spark with mischief. “Okay, Bark.”
Sounds of a door opening and closing from the back of the house lead to heeled footsteps. The swinging door near the far corner opens, and—
Damn.
Green eyes the color of prehnite hit me as hard as the silicate itself. For a second, they are open, as translucent as green bottle glass, and then they focus on me and shut down.
“Who are you?”
ChapterSix
LARK
The drop-deadgorgeous woman is glaring at me, and I’ve just forgotten my name.
“This is Bark.” Maisy giggles.“Arf-arf!”
If she were Grayson, I’d give her a noogie, but at least her teasing jolts me out of my stupor.
“I’m Lark. I left you a message—”
“You left metwomessages,” she says coolly. “Aside from blowing up my phone three other times.”
Sweat prickles the back of my neck.
“Stella—” As weird as she is, Pen’s horrified reaction is a comfort.
“Yeah, I did. Sorry about that.” I palm the back of my neck and discover that my pits are sweating too. I drop my arm. “This was a waste of time. Sorry to disturb.”
I’m aiming for the front door when Pen blocks my path, shooting her arms into aT.
“Wait. Don’t go yet.” She peers over my shoulder, glaring at Stella behind me. “What are you doing? Why are you being so rude?”
