Rose Petal Graves (The Lost Clan #1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

again.
    “Do I strike you as a very unsympathetic person?” he asked.
    “Sort of.”
    “That’s enough,” Dad said.
    “What? I’m allowed my opinion,” I said.
    Cruz laughed. I wasn’t expecting him to laugh.
    “You understand why we stopped after one child?” Dad said.
    I rolled my eyes and sat down beside him.
    “They used to tell me they wished me luck with finding a husband,” I told Cruz.
    “Used to? We—” Dad stopped short. “ I still think that.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb.
    “Look at that snow,” I said, before Dad could break down again. For a while, we all watched the spectacular white downpour in silence. Then I stood up and popped one of Dad’s old CDs—the best of Etta James—in our obsolete CD player. The warm, rich voice eased the cold melancholy almost immediately.
    “Where are you from?” Dad asked Cruz.
    “Originally from Minnesota, but I live on Beaver Island now.”
    “Beaver Island? Doesn’t it belong to this uber-rich family…what’s their name?”
    “The Woods?” he said. “Yes.”
    “And they let you live there?” he asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Are you related to them?” I asked.
    “Not yet,” Cruz said, swirling his wine. He took a sip, and then set it back on the table.
    I wanted to ask him what he meant by “not yet,” but Dad spoke before I could. “Nova told me her relatives were from Beaver Island but had a falling out with the Woods way back when. Apparently, they cursed her ancestors. She actually believed she would be burned alive if she set foot on that island.”
    I snorted. “Mom and her curses.”
    “Show her some respect,” Dad said.
    My mouth gaped at his reprieve. He’d made it sound nonsensical just seconds earlier.
    “You’re allowed your beliefs, but so was she. So was she…” Dad slipped his hand out from behind me and leaned forward. “Could I ask you for a refill?”
    “Of course,” Cruz said.
    I snapped my jaw shut, and kept it closed for a long time. When Cruz asked me a question, I would nod or shake my head, but that was the extent of my participation in their discussion. At some point, I excused myself, placed my empty glass in the kitchen sink, and stared at the terrible paint job I’d done.
    Although I’d had every intention of going upstairs, the pull to go downstairs was overwhelming. Quietly, I eased the door handle, flicked on the lights, and walked down the steps. I was curious about the old coffin Cruz had mentioned. How I hadn’t noticed it this morning was beyond me, considering it was smack in the middle of the morgue. I circled it, stroked the wood that was rough and knotted, so unlike the modern-day coffins which were varnished and smooth. I grasped the lid and lifted it. It weighed a ton and slammed shut, nearly chopping off my fingers. I tried again, this time prepared for the weight. I heaved it up. Since it didn’t have hinges, I slid it over the base until I could see inside.
    Rose petals. That’s all there was. A lot of them. I pushed the top farther off. Still, I found no bones. I scooped up the petals. They were velvety and fragrant—fresh. Had my mother put them in there?
    “You opened it,” Cruz said.
    I jumped. “Jeez…creep up on people much?”
    “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. He was looking at the petals. “Where’s the body?”
    “Body? There wouldn’t be a body anymore.”
    “I meant the bones?”
    “Maybe Mom put them in one of the cold chambers,” I said.
    Pulse battering, I pulled a lever at random. It opened the chamber stuffed with the casseroles. I closed it. My fingers froze on the handle of the next one. It was the one containing my mother. Slowly, I let them glide off. I tore my gaze away from the metal door and continued my frenzied search for the remnants, but all the other chambers were empty.
    “They’re not anywhere,” I said.
    “They must have turned to dust, Catori,” Cruz said.
    I bit the inside of my