The house felt different now, as if the walls were closing in on me.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my hands.

I pulled my own phone from my scrub pockets.

My shift at the clinic started in two hours, but I couldn’t focus on patient charts like this.

I searched my contacts for Marcus, a real estate and family lawyer who had helped my grandmother with her estate planning years ago.

My thumb hovered over his name before I pressed call.

The phone rang four times before going to voicemail.

I left a brief, desperate message, asking him to call me back immediately.

Then I walked into the hallway.

Solene was standing at the top of the stairs, holding an empty hanger.

“Dear, where do you keep the extra linens?” she asked.

“The ones in the closet are a bit musty.”

“Don’t touch those,” I said, my voice shaking.

“They were my grandmother’s.”

“Well, they’re sitting in a closet doing nothing,” Solene said, sniffing.

“A house needs to be lived in, Calla.”

Rylan appeared behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder.