That night I remembered Joe's book for some reason. Funny. It had been ages since I'd thought about it.
The house filled the cover now. It was like I was standing at the front and looking up at it. It loomed over me like a giant face. One push of the door was all it would take. And what would I find inside? I opened the book and lay it down flat on the kitchen table, as if that might keep the door closed somehow.
And I hoped that nothing had changed inside, that it had gone back to just being a story about rabbits. But of course it hadn't.
YOU ARE READING
Hotel Ambrose
FantasyTwo runaway children steal a baby and attempt to raise it themselves in the world's most haunted hotel. To Ben and Sophie the abandoned hotel seems like the perfect place to hide. No adult will ever find them there. Within its strange walls they ca...
