by Ally Carter
When the doors swung open, a tall slender man in a sleek black suit came out. He had grey hair, rosy cheeks, and a twinkle in his eyes, like a very skinny Santa Claus who’d just shaved off his beard.
‘Everyone,’ the woman said, ‘this is Smithers. Smithers, meet the newest residents of Winterborne House. This is April, Tim and Violet.’
‘Hello, Mr Smithers,’ April said, because Tim and Violet weren’t much for talking.
‘No. Just Smithers, dear. He’s the butler.’
April wondered for a second if she’d misheard and tried to run through a list of all the words that rhyme with butler. But … well … nothing rhymes with butler, so she felt her eyes get really big.
‘At your service, Miss April,’ Smithers said with a bow.
April dropped into a curtsy and used her fanciest accent. ‘Charmed, I’m sure.’
He looked like maybe he wanted to laugh at her – or maybe with her – April wasn’t always sure of the difference. And the truth was that April didn’t really care.
She was standing on the threshold of a big, scary mansion with a butler and a woman who still hadn’t gotten any stains on her white coat. April’s life had officially entered uncharted territory, and she didn’t know which way to go but forward.
That’s the thing about fear, April had learned a long time ago. Sometimes the scariest thing of all is standing still.
‘Smithers,’ Ms Nelson started, but didn’t get to finish because the door was flying open and someone was yelling, ‘I’m so glad you’re finally here!’
It wasn’t until they stepped inside that April saw her: a girl about April’s own age. She had dark skin and big brown eyes, and she wore a plaid jumper with the Winterborne crest over the heart. Her hair was in two kinds of balls on the top of her head with tiny red bows at the base of each one.
‘Am I going to have to wear bows in my hair?’ April whispered to Ms Nelson, but the words were lost against the sound of the girl’s voice as she yelled, ‘Welcome to Winterborne House!’
The next thing April knew, she was being pulled into a giant hug. Even though April didn’t hug. Ever. She didn’t even really know how, so she kept her arms straight by her side and just kind of leaned into it. She was pretty sure she was doing it wrong when the girl pulled back and thrust her hand out for April to shake instead.
‘Hello,’ the girl said, sounding like a tiny businesswoman. ‘I’m Sadie Marie Simmons! But you can call me Sadie. Everyone calls me Sadie, so you should too, April. At least I’m assuming you must be April. And you must be …’ But she trailed off when she saw the boy. ‘Who are you?’
‘That’s Tim,’ April said. ‘And Violet. She’s shy. He’s not.’
It took a split second for Sadie to process this new information, but then she just beamed and said, ‘Great! Welcome to Winterborne House. I’ve lived here for ages. Not to brag.’ April wasn’t sure why that would be bragging, but she didn’t think it was the time to say so. ‘I’m so glad you’re here! I thought I’d give you a tour. If that’s OK with you, Ms Nelson?’ She looked up at the woman, who nodded.
‘That’s an excellent idea, Sadie. Do you mind if I tag along?’
‘That would be lovely.’ The girl turned and said over her shoulder, ‘If you’d come with me.’
April was just starting to reconsider her first impression. Surely the girl wasn’t twelve. Surely she was thirty. Maybe forty. She spoke exactly like a grownup even if she did skip a little as she started for the stairs.
‘Welcome to Winterborne House!’ Sadie said again, but louder this time, and the words sounded more formal. Like this was the beginning of a recording that she’d made months ago and someone had just pressed Play.
‘Winterborne House was built in 1812 by Reginald Winterborne the First, the patriarch of the Winterborne family.’
There were sweeping stairs and a long hall and a massive oil painting of a man who must have been the patriarch himself.
(April made a mental note to never, ever set it on fire.)
‘The house was built in the Chateauesque style out of stone mined from the Winterborne quarry. Over the past two hundred years, it has seen several major additions and renovations and is currently ninety-seven thousand square feet with forty-two bedrooms, sixteen staircases, three dining rooms, a conservatory, and thirty-nine bathrooms, which were added at the end of the First World War.’
‘What did they use before then?’ April couldn’t help but ask.
Sadie shook her head. ‘You don’t want to know.’
When Sadie said that the house had two miles’ worth of stairways and hallways and corridors, April rolled her eyes, but thirty minutes later, she was a believer because her head hurt, her feet hurt, and through the windows, night was starting to fall.
Violet was already yawning by the time they reached the highest floor of the house. April could hear the wind blowing off the sea and feel the cold air soaking through the stones, but Sadie was practically vibrating as she threw open a door and shouted, ‘Welcome home!’
April supposed it was a bedroom (because there were beds and all), but it was like no bedroom she’d ever seen before. The beds had tall canopies and matching dressers. There were paintings on the walls and huge closets full of clothes, and a bathroom with a tub big enough to swim in.
The sun was already down as she walked towards the huge bay window with the wavy glass and plush cushions lining the window seat. The dark glass was like a mirror, and for a moment, April didn’t recognise herself in her new clothes in her new room, surrounded by so many new people. It wasn’t the first time April had found herself picked up and plunked down in a new house with a new family that wasn’t really a family at all. But her hand went to her key, felt its familiar weight, and April knew that this time would be different.
And that was when April saw the rope.
It took her a moment to wonder exactly why it was hanging from the ceiling in the centre of the room, but when Sadie reached for it, she seemed especially excited. Possibly too excited, April realised a little too late, because in the next moment, Sadie was grasping the rope and giving it a massive tug.
Which turned on a ceiling fan.
Which jerked a wire, setting off a mousetrap that someone had stuck to the wall.
Which cut the string that was holding the tennis shoes.
Which dropped to the floor and landed on a skateboard.
Which went zooming to the other side of the room, careening into an iron that tipped over.
And burned the piece of yarn that ran through the pulleys and up to the windows.
Which caused all five window shades to drop in very dramatic fashion, revealing the words:
Welcome!
Home!
April!
And!
Violet!
For a long time, everyone just stood there as if waiting for something else to fall or snap or burn or tip. But when nothing else happened, April began to think that they must have already seen the big finale.
‘That was great,’ she tried, and Sadie beamed.
‘It’s one of my own inventions.’ She seemed so … happy. April had never met a kid quite like her. ‘Do you love it?’
Sadie was pointing at the pretty beds with tall canopies and thick velvet curtains you could pull together to make a cosy cocoon. On the other side of the room, there was a fireplace and cushy armchairs surrounded by shelves and shelves of books.
And April had to think hard about her answer.
‘This is our room,’ Sadie went on. ‘Yours and mine and Violet’s. Ms Nelson said we should all room together at first because the house is so big and confusing, and we girls have got to stick together. Not you.’ She looked at Tim. ‘You and Colin will have a different room. No boys allowed!’
Sadie laughed then, but April was walking towards the bed. She looked up at the canopy overhead – at the Winterborne crest that was there, looking exactly like the key around her neck.
‘Yeah, Sadie,’ April had to say. ‘It’s perfect.’
THE MIDNIGHT MISSION
April woke up because of the thunder. Or maybe the wind. She wasn’t really sure what had pulled her from her dream, except the windows were rattling and a storm was howling, and a little body was shivering beside her, even though the bed was snug and warm.
By April’s way of thinking, the big house had been OK since 1812. Not even April’s luck was bad enough to make it collapse her first night there. But when the lightning cracked outside and a tree limb blew against the window, the little girl whimpered and snuggled closer, and April said, ‘Shhh. It’s OK, Violet. Go to sleep.’
But April didn’t even try to do the same. How could she when the Winterborne crest was on the canopy overhead, mocking her? Tempting her. So when Violet’s breathing became deep and steady, April slipped out of bed and headed for the door.
The key was heavy around her neck, and she had a lock to find. Also, Smithers might have brought them a tray with sandwiches and lemonade earlier, but April had a strong suspicion there might be ice cream in the kitchen.
And April had a policy of never, ever missing ice cream.
The house that had been slightly creepy in the broad light of day was downright eerie in the middle of the night. In the middle of a storm. On the side of a cliff at the edge of the world. At least that’s the way April felt as she crept out the door, stepping over Sadie’s ‘alarm clock’ (which was really just an hourglass, a Slinky, a cowbell and an overstuffed sock filled with marbles).
So April was extra double careful as she eased out into the deserted hall. She wished she’d thought to put on some shoes, but cold feet were nothing compared to an empty stomach, and April liked the idea of getting the lay of the land at a time when there would be no kids, no butlers and no women who never got dirty.
Soon, the rain was falling so hard against the windows it was like the whole building was being sprayed with a firehose. Lightning crashed and thunder boomed and April had the feeling that the ocean was angry.
But April wasn’t afraid.
After all, houses can’t hurt you. People can, but only if you let them, and April wasn’t going to make that mistake again, so she wasn’t afraid – even when the little hairs on the back of her neck started to stand on end, telling her that she wasn’t alone.
‘Who’s there?’ she called into the darkness, but the darkness didn’t answer.
‘It’s April,’ she called again, but only the wind replied.
When April reached the stairs, lightning crashed, too bright, through the windows. The wind roared like sirens, and April watched the shadows dance, knowing she’d seen it all before. She’d felt it all before. And there was only one word on April’s mind as she made it to the first floor: Sentinel.
She remembered what the kids at the museum had said – that the Sentinel was real, and now April had no doubt.
The Sentinel was down there.
She spun as she felt the air move at her back. She whirled when the floors creaked on the far side of the hall. She almost flew back up the stairs when the lightning struck, sending a wave of white light through the big windows. Then a crash sounded behind her – like the lightning was coming from inside the house – and she spun again, staring through the darkness.
Maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her.
Maybe the Sentinel wasn’t there. But she definitely wasn’t alone. She wanted to run away or scream for help. But someone had carried her out of the fire and put her mother’s key back around her neck.
Maybe some urban legends wanted to be friends?
‘Hello?’ she asked the darkness.
She didn’t actually think the darkness would talk back.
‘There you are.’
‘What are you doing here?’
Tim’s voice was low, and April understood why that mean woman had called him Violet’s guard dog, because April half expected him to growl as he stood on the stairs, looking down at April and her bare feet.
‘I live here?’ She didn’t need Tim’s permission for walking around. She didn’t need anyone’s permission.
And she was just starting to tell him so when he snapped, ‘Violet woke up screaming, and you weren’t there.’
Just as he finished, there was a crash of thunder and a bright burst of lightning, and the mansion felt like maybe it actually was going to fall into the sea, but April had other problems at that moment, thank you very much.
‘She was sound asleep when I left. She was fine.’
‘She’s not fine!’ Tim didn’t look twelve. He looked twenty. And like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, like they couldn’t possibly grow fast enough to keep up.
‘But she’s OK now, right? Or else you wouldn’t be here?’
It seemed like a valid point, but Tim doubled down.
‘She was terrified.’
April wanted to tell him that everyone was terrified sometimes. That not having anyone who cares when you wake up screaming is really just life and everyone has to handle it eventually. But for some reason, she asked, ‘So how sick is she?’
‘She’s fine,’ he snapped.
‘She was in the hospital, though, right? Is that why you’re down here yelling at me?’
‘She … she has trouble breathing sometimes. I don’t expect you to care or anything, but—’
‘I care,’ April said, and she watched his face shift from anger to something that looked a lot like guilt.
‘Yeah. Well, you’d be the first.’
‘You care,’ April reminded him. ‘How long has she been sick?’
‘I don’t know.’ Tim shook his head. ‘She was like that when she came to the last house. I came home from school one day, and there was this little girl I’d never seen before, lying on the bathroom floor, trying to breathe.’
‘How many homes has she been in? What happened to her parents? Where—’
‘I don’t know!’ he snapped, then looked like he felt bad about it. He looked like he felt bad about everything. ‘I’m not her real brother. I’m just all she has.’
Tim didn’t say the rest of it – that Violet was all he had, too.
April thought about what Ms Nelson had said in the car, about how some families are the ones you choose. No one had ever chosen April, but she was OK with that. After all, April’s mum would be back soon.
‘Look, the thing about me is that I’m not going to be here for ever. I want to help Violet, but my mum is coming back for me.’ April said it like it was a secret, like she didn’t want it getting out because then all the other kids would feel bad, and kids like Tim and Violet had enough things making them feel bad already.
‘Oh. Is that right?’ Tim crossed his arms and looked down at her.
‘Yeah,’ April said. ‘So I don’t want her getting attached … OK? I don’t want her to be hurt when my mum comes to get me.’
‘Yeah. Right. OK,’ Tim said. ‘So, when is your mum coming, exactly?’
‘Soon.’ April didn’t sound defensive. She didn’t have to. She was just telling the truth.
‘And how long have you been saying that?’
The lightning struck again, and a fresh wave of rain pounded against the windows, and April didn’t let herself think about the answer.
‘Look,’ Tim said, ‘I’m not going to get dependent on you. And neither is Violet. Vi and me, we’re OK. We’d run away if we had to. But we don’t have to, and I know you’re not going to be in the system long because your mum is coming back and all, but this is the best place I’ve ever been. It’s the best place Violet could ever be. So Violet and me, we’re gonna stick around here. And we’re not getting kicked out because of you.’
April didn’t want to get anyone kicked out. She just wanted to track down the lock and find her mother and maybe grab some ice cream. She didn’t ask for Tim to come yell at her. She didn’t ask for anything! So she snapped, ‘Then by all means, go back to bed. Don’t let me stop you!’<
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‘I won’t!’ Tim shouted. ‘And don’t worry. Violet won’t be bothering you any more. People who don’t talk a lot listen. And Violet’s smart enough to know who she can count on.’
He didn’t even look back as he started up the stairs, disappearing like …
‘The Sentinel.’ April remembered the movement in the darkness and the sinking suspicion that she wasn’t alone. She whirled around and studied the shadows. But surely she was wrong, she thought. Surely—
‘Ow!’ April took a step and felt a piercing stab at the bottom of her big toe. Then another. When she dropped into a chair, she saw blood covering the bottom of her foot and a tiny shard sticking out from the soft skin. April winced as she pulled it free. Then she realised the floor was littered with more pieces – hundreds of them. Larger shards of a broken vase lay in the centre, and April remembered the crash she’d heard just before Tim appeared at the top of the stairs.
Sure, ghosts and urban legends might wander around museums and creepy old houses, but they didn’t break things, April knew.
People break things.
In April’s experience, people break everything.
THE CALM AFTER THE STORM
The following morning, at seven a.m. precisely, Sadie’s hourglass tipped over, causing a marble to become unbalanced and roll down a length of tubing, knocking over a bottle of water that poured out on to a piece of paper, which quickly dissolved, causing the spring-loaded cords attached to the bed curtains to retract quickly, flooding April’s bed with the kind of bright, clear sunshine that only comes after a storm.
‘Do you love it?’ Sadie’s face was inches away from April’s nose. ‘It’s—’
‘One of your own inventions?’ April guessed as she pushed herself upright and looked around.
Sadie was already dressed, and she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, saying, ‘It’s your first day! Are you excited? You should be excited. I’m so excited. Aren’t you?’
‘Soooo excited,’ April lied, because in truth, all April wanted to do was go back to sleep. She’d been having a wonderful dream where she’d found a second jewelled box and this time the key fit. She was just about to throw open the lid and reveal all the treasure, but now April would never know how it was supposed to end.