About every third step had a pot or pan catching raindrops that seeped through the ceiling. The stained-glass windows lining the walls were streaked with rain. This place was run-down for a bed-and-breakfast that people would pay to stay at. I wondered if they had other customers staying here this week. It was so quiet, I assumed they didn’t. Finn asked, “What are your plans while you’re here?” I didn’t think it was a good idea to tell him his guest was cursed. “We’re going to meet with my dad’s long-lost sister. At the Spring Fling.” “That’ll be fun.” The hallway was very dark. Finn took a lighter out of his pocket and lit candle sconces on the wall as we approached a door. He pushed it open. It was black inside. Finn went ahead of me and pulled heavy drapes to the sides, letting in the only smidgen of light outside that wasn’t blanketed by clouds. Then he lifted a big glass globe and lit an oil lamp. The whole thing felt très romantic. The amber light of the lamp captured Finn’s face like a close-up in a vampire movie, except his cheeks were rosy, not pale.
