Chapter 17 “How do you like this house, girls?” Dean asked during one night at the dinner table. He almost forgot to ask this question for a week but now he had time and patience.
Myra stopped eating and placed her bite of food down when her father questioned that. She swallowed hard and looked at him.
“It’s nice, papa but I want to know the history of this house, who owned it before us?” Myra questioned as she moved the food aside and folded her hands while waiting for her father to respond.
“I told you, my friend, he died a few years back and sold it to me.” Dean quickly responded.
Myra raised an eyebrow at his response, “Is that all? I see paintings in the hallway made in 1800s. Is this house really that old?” She continued to inquire. She never got the chance to really question
