Lenore almost had everything she wanted.
In just a few short months, she'd graduate early from high school, start an internship at her father's new startup in San Francisco, and then head off to college in the fall on a full scholarship. Everything...
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Every pair of eyes was on them as they approached the house. Lenore kept her gaze forward, pretending she didn't notice. It had been years since she and her dad had left, in the wake of everything—the disappearances, the accusations, the rumours—but in a small town, rumours never really die. But the residents of Eden at least had enough manners to let them get to the porch without harassment.
The main door of the house had been propped open with a large river stone, leaving only the screen door. The wind pulled at it, snapping it against the frame like it was trying to get a good enough grip to slip inside. Her dad caught the door mid-snap, its rusted springs squealing in protest as he pulled it wide and held it open for Lenore.
Inside, the people who had gathered in the foyer seemed to step back from them, almost in awe. She'd grown quite a bit in the intervening years, but there was enough of her mother in her that they'd notice some similarities. Lenore looked around the room just for a reason to avoid eye contact.
Just like the outside, the house was exactly as she remembered it. Same dark hardwood floors, same white beadboard walls, the same hard, uncomfortable furniture that some great-uncle-twice-removed had made by hand. The only noticeable difference was the pictures that climbed the wall beside the stairs.
Before, those frames had been filled with a collage of smiling faces: her mom, her dad, Auntie Alice, Grandma Anne, and—of course—Lenore. Auntie Alice had been the first to go after the disappearances. Her dad had probably been next, taken down soon after he and Lenore had left, and with him went the pictures of her mom. Now, it was just photos of her Gran and her. The same grey eyes, the eyes Lenore had inherited from her, stared out from every frame. The entire wall was like a shrine to the two of them.
It was almost as if Lenore had died alongside her.
"Lenore!"
Delilah had reappeared. She stood in the open doorway of the formal living room, or as Gran had called it, the parlour.
If people hadn't been looking before, they certainly were now. Before, some of them might have struggled to recognize Lenore's face. But her name? Her name would definitely ring some bells.
Delilah beckoned to them as if they were meant to follow her. Even though Lenore really didn't want to, her dad nudged her on and led her past the rubberneckers.
As they reached the glass-fronted double doors that opened into the living room, Delilah gave them another stiff smile.
"Your mom is just finishing up with someone," she said, looking apologetic, "but I told her she could meet you here." She motioned to the room beyond. "It'll give you a moment to say your goodbyes, at least." And then she stepped aside. They followed her lead and headed inside.
Lenore barely made it past the doors before she staggered to a stop. Next to her, her dad gave a sharp gasp. It took Lenore a second longer to understand what she was seeing.
