“I didn’t even know where she lived.”
Maya shook her head, agreeing. “Don’t think anyone knew.”
“I did,” Sydney whispered.
Deena and Maya turned to her and stared. Tears made a path through the makeup on Sydney’s cheeks, ruining an hour’s worth of work in front of a mirror.
“Spill …” Deena demanded after Sydney said no more. “You brought us here!”
“Yeah,” Maya echoed, encircling the overgrown garden and weed-filled greenhouse with her arm. Goodness knows the condition of the stone cottage. “How come you know where Rock-For-Heart…” she shrugged apologetically at Deena’s kick. “Sorry, now that she’s, um, gone…where Professor Rockfort lived?”
Everyone gave a wide berth to the gruff professor in musty tweeds and bushy eyebrows. Her snap was prodigious, and her marks were stingy. Why would anyone even want to know where she lived?
“Her name was Grace,” Sydney sniffled. “And she was my great-grand aunt.”
For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge