I hear a knock at the front door. I walk over
and pull open the large wooded entrance to
see Jane wearing a loose, white blouse with
a pink skirt and sandals. Her smiles is
bright as she notices me checking her out.
“You look stunning.” I compliment, grabbing
her hand and leading her to the kitchen.
“Thank you. You don’t look bad yourself.”
She grins. I take her into the kitchen,
pouring her a glass of tea.
“So, how do you like the house?” She
questions, sipping on her drink.
“It has character alright.” I laugh a bit,
trying to cover it up with taking a sip of tea.
“Oh, it does, but good character.” She
reassures me. “My brother used to let me
make brownies here while he did the
upkeep.” I smile as she remembers a
memory I’m guessing from her childhood.
“I bet that was nice.”
“It was lovely.” We chat for a while before I
start to make dinner. I let her do the easy
things since she assured me that her
cooking skills were limited.
“Well, what about the brownie making? You
must be good at those.” I say, putting the
chicken in the oven.
“I am a beast at making brownies.” She
smiles proudly, flicking her hair off her
shoulder dramatically. “But that is about the
only thing I can actually make without
burning.” She giggles and I laugh along with
“Would you like some wine?” I ask once we
finally settled down with our chicken and
“I would love some.” I get up and grab the
box from the cabinet, laughing at myself for
actually offering her boxed wine.
“Well, isn’t that fancy.” She suppresses a
“The finest there is.” I joke, pouring her a
glass. The taste isn’t bad, but not very good
either. “So, did you ever see Anna while
your brother was working here?”
“Oh, no, but my brother claimed he saw her
one night while he was cleaning that room.
He said she was stunning – breath-taking –
but very cold, and seemed angry at the
world.” She explains. “He said he’ll never
forget the look in her eyes, the hurt. He told
me you could tell the girl had been to hell
I take a moment to take in her words,
remembering how sad she looked when I
talked to her yesterday, but she was also
“That’s insane, but believable.”
“It really is, but she had every right to be
mad.” she finishes off her chicken.
“And why is that?” I wonder, leaning further
into the table.
“Her parents had high expectations for her,
ones she felt she couldn’t fulfil, but they
insisted that their children would excel in
life.” She takes a sip of her drink. “The poor
girl had the weight of the world on her
shoulders, yet her parents just added more.
She became depressed, causing her to fail in
her classes. Of course that just angered her
parents even more, to know their child was
failing, so they pushed harder.” She
explains, like she has told the story a million
“Wow, that’s terrible. How do you know all
of this again?”
“It’s all in the books. I read a lot and find
her to be very interesting. Family and close
friends of hers were interviewed, her
parents would have never admitted their
child had depression, the Sextons were
supposed to be perfect. Not a flaw was
found in that family until her death.” I
think on everything Jane had said in the last
five minutes and find this house to be even
more intriguing than I thought.
“Well, thank you for having me over for
dinner, it was beyond lovely, even the boxed
wine.” She giggles.
“I’m really glad you enjoyed it. Maybe you
can join me for a proper date sometime.”
Jane nods, saying, “I would love that.”
I tell her goodbye before she leaves down
the driveway. I shut the door and head into
the kitchen to start cleaning up. I throw the
dirty pans in the sink and start up the
dishwasher, and hear the doorbell ring. I
head back over to the living room and see
who it is.