They weren’t waiting for the court hearing next week.

They were already destroying the land to make the development a foregone conclusion.

Tears of anger stung my eyes, but I forced them back.

I had to get to the house before anyone saw me.

I backed away from the clearing and hurried down the familiar path toward the main residence.

The brick manor house loomed out of the fog, dark and silent.

No lights showed in any of the windows, but I couldn’t assume it was empty.

I bypassed the front porch and made my way to the rear of the house, where the old wooden storm cellar doors were located.

The wood was swollen from the rain, and the iron padlock was rusted.

I reached into the pocket of my coat and pulled out the brass key I had taken from Eleanor’s ring before she died.

The lock turned with a heavy, wet click.

I lifted one of the cellar doors slowly, praying the hinges wouldn’t scream.

They groaned, but the sound was swallowed by the dripping of the trees.