7
“It’s just up the stairs,” Mrs. Hunt said as she led the way from the living room. Kira and Trevor trailed behind her. Clarissa’s mother stopped at the first door at the top of the landing. She reached out to turn the brass doorknob. “Jim doesn’t like it when I leave the door open.”
Kira peered past her to glimpse at the room within. The curtains had been drawn back to let in the afternoon sun. The bed was neatly made and a set of colored pencils lay neatly atop a desk beside an open sketchbook. A bulletin board filled with faded photos and drawings decorated the wall above the desk, and a mirrored dresser stood against the wall opposite the bed. The room was decorated in deep, jewel tones. There was no hint of dust. If Kira hadn’t known any better, she never would have thought the roo
