Page 26 of Haunting the Deep

Mary walks to the middle of the room and turns around twice. Her eyes widen. “What if we all meet here before the Spring Fling? It’s ideal for pictures.”

My dad lights up. “I think that’s a great idea.”

“I wasn’t going—” I start to say.

But Mary cuts me off with a squeal. “Is there a way to play music in here?”

My dad grins. “Sure thing. There’s an old record player over there, and we could easily bring in a stereo with some speakers.”

I cringe, remembering my fight with Jaxon. On impulse I pull out my phone and check my texts, but there are none. I usually hear from him ten times a day. I type a text and press send:Can we talk?

Mary walks up to the old gramophone. She lifts the lid and places the needle on a record. Scratchy classical music fills the room, and Mary bounces on the balls of her feet. Something about the music feels oddly familiar, and not good familiar. She picks up the needle and the room goes quiet.

The doorbell chimes.Jaxon?

“I’ll get it,” I say. Would he really come over that fast?

I speed-walk down the hall to the foyer and peer through the brass peephole. No one’s there. I open the door and squint into the darkness. A long glossy white box with a black bow sits on our steps with a card tucked into the ribbon.

I step outside and look around. “Hello?” But there’s no answer, and no delivery truck leaving from the curb.

I pull the box inside and open the card. It’s written in beautiful cursive, not as loopy as Elijah’s calligraphy, but close. It reads:

Niece? Myra H.H.? “Daaad?”

My dad comes down the hall so quickly I feel bad for having yelled his name. The girls are right behind him.

“Sam?” he says, and looks down at the pretty box. He’s on edge about every little thing. It’s almost like he’s waiting for something bad to happen the same way I am.

I hand him the card.

His brow furrows. “Huh. Well, that’s odd, considering your mother and I were only children. And I don’t know anyone named Myra. I suppose ‘aunt’ could be loosely referring to someone from my mother’s extended family? I just didn’t think we had any Haxtun relatives left.”

“Haxtun?”

“Your grandmother’s maiden name was Haxtun. That could be what one of theH’s stands for. No otherHnames in the family that I can recall. Maybe this is one of her second cousins I don’t know about?” He looks at me. “Come to think of it, that painting we talked about in the hallway—she might have been a Haxtun. Was this all that was in the envelope?”

“Yeah. No address or phone number of any kind.”

Alice steps past Mary to get a closer look at the card.

“Go on. Open it, Sam. I can’t take all the suspense,” Mary says.

I untie the elaborate bow and slide the white lid off the box at arm’s length, not entirely convinced something won’t jump out at me. Inside, there is rose tissue paper and an emerald-green silk dress with short white lace sleeves.My dream! That green dress on the deck!

I rub my thumb against my palm and avoid looking at my dad.

Susannah lifts it up, and the skirt falls all the way to the floor. The fabric hangs in complicated folds, and the lace looks fragile.

“Why would someone send me a fancy dress?”

“This isn’t just a dress,” Mary says. “It’s an Edwardianevening gown.”

Alice’s eyebrows go up. “LikeTitanicEdwardian?”

Mary nods, and we all stare at the gown.

“Isn’t that the theme of your school dance?” my dad asks.