The Poe Estate

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Almost there,” said Dad as we crested the last hill.

The old Thorne Mansion stood black against the sky, bristling with gables and laced with leafless vines. Crows quarreled in the skeletal trees. I couldn’t see the ocean, but I smelled its salt. The truck, heavy with everything we owned, lurched and bumped up the steep drive. My new home did not look welcoming.

“It’s been a long time,” said Mom. “I feel bad I didn’t visit more often. Cousin Hepzibah was always so good to my brother.”

“Well, you’ve had a lot on your mind,” said Dad. “At least we’re here now.”

“Come in, child,” said Cousin Hepzibah. She was sitting in a wooden chair by the window. Pale daylight slanted down over her, making gray streaks in the air.

I hadn’t seen her in years—not since before my sister got sick—but she looked just the same, straight and thin and pale, like a birch tree. She had her white hair pulled back from her face, but her eyebrows were still black. The dark horizontal stripes made her look even more birchlike. Underneath them, her eyes were sky blue.

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