The house was smaller than she remembered from her mother's stories, its once-vibrant blue shutters now faded to a ghostly gray.
Vines crept up the walls like grasping fingers, and the wooden steps groaned underfoot as they approached.
But it was now hers. A secret tucked away from the world, known only to her and the ghost of her mother.
She fished the rusted key from her sleeve, the one she'd kept hidden in a lacquered box beneath her bed for years and slid it into the lock. The mechanism resisted for a heartbeat before yielding with a tired clack.
The door swung open, releasing a gust of stale air. Dust motes swirled in the moonlight, settling over furniture draped in yellowed sheets.
Xiliu coughed, waving a hand. " Wow, it's like a tomb in here."
Peizhi stepped inside, her fingers trailing over the shrouded shapes of chairs, a low table, a writing desk.
