The drive up the hill was long and cool. Fall had come and the leaves on the trees had browned and threatened to fall to the ground like dying angels. Magdalene Hamato no longer had to keep her windows open to bring a breeze in. Soon it would be cold enough where she could begin to turn on the heater and prepare for snow.
The farmhouse came into view and what normally would have sparked happiness and excitement in the woman's heart now brought a sinking feeling. But she had promised to come up that day, and come up she would.
Maggie parked the car and let the door slam shut behind her. The property was too quiet for her taste but she felt as though if she said anything, it'd be deafening. It felt almost unholy to say anything. Besides, even if she wanted to, she knew she couldn't. Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth.
The woman left the car behind and headed for the farmhouse. It had run in her family. It once belonged to her great grandmother and was inherited by her mother's aunt befor
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