Darkling Read Online Free PDF

marsh grass. She was watching us. A girl with dark hair. Didn’t you see her?”
    Annie seemed afraid to breathe. Seconds ticked by in the silence that weighted the room. “It was just a story, Donald,” she said at last.
    Berta hesitated. “I don’t like for the children to be frightened.” It wasn’t exactly a warning, but it was a clear direction.
    â€œYes, ma’am.” Annie looked as if she’d been kicked. “It won’t happen again.”
    Oblivious to the mood around the table, Bob refilled his wine glass and Berta’s. I shook my head when he tipped the bottle in my direction. I’d learned something interesting. Annie was facile with a tall tale, and she was a quick study with local landmarks. It troubled me. I’d heard plenty of tales about the Paradise, but none about a drowned actress. “I should take Donald up to his room. The multiplication tables are calling his name,” I said. “Annie, I left your books on the desk in your room.”
    â€œAnnie’s story has piqued my imagination.” Berta twined her fingers through Bob’s. “I think the Paradise Inn might make an interesting topic for research, especially since my husband is determined to bring it back to life. If the ghost of Madeline is there, we should know.”
    â€œI’ve lived here my entire life and never heard of Madeline.”
    â€œMaybe we can research the story of Madeline.” Erin was suddenly eager.
    Berta stood and put a hand on Erin’s head. “Enough ghost stories. Let’s clear the table. How about a game of Crazy Eights? Erin? Mimi beat the socks off all of us the last time we played. I think we deserve a rematch.”
    â€œI want to watch Sanford and Son, ” Erin said. “Margo loves that show.”
    â€œNo television for Margo,” Bob said. “She needs to reflect on her behavior, and some time alone in her room will do her good.”
    Dinner was over. As we carried the dishes into the kitchen, I noticed Annie staring out the windows at the front of the house. She stood, a small, solitary figure, enthralled by something in the night.

5
    My suite of rooms occupied a portion of the second floor. Night had fallen, and for a moment I went to the door that gave onto a set of exterior stairs that also went to the third-floor room Annie now used. The staircase allowed me to come and go as I pleased. Bob and Berta wanted me to have my independence—not to seek permission for social activities. So far, though, I’d had no late dates or occasions to come home and slip inside unseen. I loved my rooms and had everything I desired at Belle Fleur.
    Bob’s renovations included a lovely old clawfoot tub, marble inlays in the bathroom, a spacious bed, and antique mahogany furniture. Cora had turned Berta on to a stash of antiques Bob bought for a pittance because “they might have really been in Belle Fleur.”
    He’d also added a huge walk-in closet. Since I had no living expenses, I could indulge my fashion wants—hip-hugger jeans, knit tops, sandals, shorts, and lots of prints with hippie influence. But I wasn’t a girl who advocated drugs, sex, and rock and roll. My longing for family and acceptance undercut any rebellious need to express my independence in negative ways. I yearned for Bob and Berta’s approval, therefore my wardrobe was simple, and I was careful not to go beyond a certain boundary because I feared I would influence Margo toward too-revealing clothing. She already had a penchant for short shorts and halter tops.
    Some of the local teenagers had discovered marijuana and rock and roll back when I was in high school. A couple of boys I knew ran a business selling homegrown weed. The woods around Coden offered good soil, seclusion, and not much interference from the law. Drugs never interested me. I’d gone to college. I’d had other ambitions, and sometimes I’d