The Last Writer Adriane Leigh (story reading TXT) 📖

“They haven’t all been runaways.” I thought back to all the kids that’d come before.

“Of course they have. I was telling Truman’s doctor friend in the city that the vitamins I have don’t seem powerful enough, so he’s promised to send me a shipment of these extremely potent supplements he swears by. I think it will really help turn around the kids working in the lily cellar.”

“Who is Truman?” I brimmed.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Truman is the new director, he’s all the rage in the city right now—he’s just finished writing a true crime thriller that’s going to take everyone by storm. He has the perfect voice to direct the follow-up to Lilies in the Cellar. I want to dig deeper and really stretch creative boundaries with this book. My agent says I need to outdo myself, so it needs to be much darker too.”

A chill swept through my skin.

“The lily business has been booming, all five boroughs have contracted Usher House & Gardens to provide the lily bulbs for all the city landscaping next year. It pays to know the right people, but I just don’t have time to write the second book and maintain the lilies. Honestly, I wish you could get over whatever reservations you have and make peace with the natural order of things. We’re giving them a good life at Usher House, even if it is a shorter one.”

I didn’t answer, only twirled the tiny finger bone in my pocket as I wondered exactly how many children might be buried under the pathways of Usher.

“I’m low on workers as it is, I’m praying these new vitamin compounds will help turn around the poor health of our workforce. I just can’t afford to keep deadheading all of my most precious little lilies and planting them under the raised beds in the front yard.” A soft giggle split the night air.

I knew then there would never be any stopping her.

Usher House had turned the governess into a murderer.

“Please tell me what happened to Nate.”

“Who?” she sneered, but I knew she knew.

I waited.

Finally, she tipped her eyes to the sky. “Walton did it.”

“Bullshit.”

Her head whipped around, the curse forbidden on my lips. “I could see you were developing feelings for him. I wish I’d caught it sooner.”

She spoke of my feelings for Nate like a bad bug that I couldn’t shake. Feelings, maybe that’s all they were.

“Come, let’s go inside and I’ll tell you what I know. It’s not much, but I can see you need it.”

I balked, allowing her to wrap an arm around my shoulders. She led me down the pathway of the garden, through the gates and back through the doors of Usher House. “I’ll meet you in the office, you steep us some hot tea while I dig something out I think you’ll want to see. Walton has been delivering my afternoon tea the last few days but it’s been simply awful, he just doesn’t have a knack for anything. Serves me right for tasking him with something above ground.” I cringed at the way she spoke about him like a dog. “One teaspoon of honey and two sugar cubes, he always forgets the sugar cubes. It’s so bitter.”

I feigned a smile. “Two cubes.”

“You’re such a sweet girl, what would I do without you?”

I’d often wondered the same, but didn’t say so.

She turned, heading for her office and giving me the distance I’d been craving. I didn’t know what she had to reveal, but my hunch had evolved into full-blown confirmation that she’d taken Nate from me, and that my life hadn’t been the same since.

We’d been sheltered on Shelter Island, the irony wasn’t lost on me.

I filled the teapot with hot water and set it on the stove just was Walton wandered in, two canisters of the hand-crushed tea leaves the governess preferred in his hands. Without words, he slipped the canisters in the cupboard, then turned and left the kitchen in silence.

I shuddered at his eery presence, thankful he’d left as quickly as he’d come. I pulled the nearest canister of tea from the shelf and scooped the softly-scented bits of petal and herb into a soft sachet, frowning when I noticed tiny flakes of golden powder whispering throughout the normally peachy-pink concoction.

I brought the scoop to my nose and inhaled, smiling as the aromatherapy eased my tense muscles. It smelled as it always did, and made me want to curl up with tea and a book at my window. I bristled then, thinking of the copy I’d stolen from the governess’s office just a while ago, hoping she wouldn't notice before I had a chance to read the story. The bestselling fictionalized account of my life.

What a strange reality Usher House had brought upon us.

The teapot began its low whistle then. I poured the steaming water into the ceramic mug, still tempted to pour some for myself. Just as I set the teapot back on the burner, my eyes cast through the paned-glass kitchen window and caught sight of a hooded figure at the cliffs.

I tilted my head, studying the slope of the shoulders and the lean stature of the figure. I frowned when my visibility fell into deep shadow from a passing cloud.

By the time the edge of the cliff was lit with sunlight again, the cliffside was empty, only memories of Nate’s and my last night there remaining. Our ghosts, forever waltzing at the edges of my mind.

“Yara?!” the governess trilled, shocking me from my daydream.

“Coming!” I called with false cheer, teacup in one hand as I left the kitchen. “Did the recipe for your tea change? It smells the same but maybe the company switched ingredients?”

“Oh, I hope not.” The governess took her teacup from my hand and inhaled it deeply. “It smells wonderful, thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

I lingered, eyes casting around the room as I considered what to say. Did you kill the only boy I’ve ever loved? was what I wanted