One Last Time Read Online Free Page A

It’s been a successful night. Let them leave. With them gone, I am free to escape this haunted mansion and go home.
    Tony takes the initiative and picks up one of the candles as he makes his way toward the door. I half expect him to start singing “This Little Light of Mine” as he leads the guests in triumph, no doubt saving them from the bowels of hell. Everyone follows him, everyone except Quillan and me. I am not taking his path. As soon as they disappear, I am grabbing a candle and yelling for Mike to come get me. I am surprised he hasn’t made his way here to check on everyone since we lost the power.
    Tony stops a moment before shifting his path slightly to the right. Raising his candle, he illuminates the wall in front of him. There is no door, only solid wall.
    “Where’s the damn door?” Peter Butler curses again.
    Tony shifts back to the left and lifts his light again. A floral-papered wall greets him.
    “There’s no door!” Emma Chizzam’s voice reeks with fear. “The door has disappeared!”
    Tony openly shows his agitation. “That’s impossible, honey. Doorways just don’t vanish.”
    “In a haunted house, I am sure they can.” Regina’s sultry voice teases.
    I don’t think it’s funny. The darkness is heavy, smothering, stealing the air from my lungs. My claustrophobia is on the rise. I have no intention of being entombed in this gruesome sarcophagus. Somebody better find the door!
    “We’re trapped,” Jason announces. “I’ve felt my way around the entire room and there is no exit.”
    “Mr. Brackett did say we would be looking for a way out.” Regina laughs. “I guess he intended the fun to start here.”
    “Well, I for one do not want to play!” Emma’s nearly crying. “Mr. Brackett!” she calls out, as if she were disciplining one of her children. “You reveal yourself this instant!”
    Only silence meets her demand. The only sound I hear is the pounding of my heart. The guests make their way back across the room, all eyes on me. With their lit candles in tow, they are like an angry mob with torches and pitchforks. “Where’s your uncle?” Tony asks me, his voice far from pleasant. I am not sure I should fear him. After all, he did say he was a Christian, but then again, didn’t they cause the Crusades?
    “He’s not my uncle,” I confess to the holy man. “I’ve never met him before tonight.”
    Now it’s everyone else who is dumbfounded, not to mention extremely agitated. “What in God’s name is going on?” Peter yells. Even in the darkness, I can see his face flush with anger.
    “I don’t know any more than you do.” I shrug. “I’m not his niece. My name is Averie. I work for the catering service.” Everyone starts questioning me at once. I blush at my admission. “He hired me to join his party.” My trembling voice rises above their complaints. “A guest canceled earlier and Mr. Brackett admitted he is extremely superstitious and didn’t want only thirteen people to attend his dinner. I was guest number fourteen until Quillan showed up without his grandmother.” I refuse to look at Quillan now, so I am not sure how my disclosure is setting with him. Everyone else shakes their heads in disgust, perturbed at being duped.
    “I knew it!” Regina releases a sarcastic laugh. “I saw our hot little server winking at her. He must be your boyfriend.” I decide I don’t like big-boobed Regina. How dare she refer to Mike as her hot little server? He is much more and definitely not into cougars.
    “He’s not my boyfriend.” I deny her crude accusation. My face grows hot, and I hope the light doesn’t reveal my glowing cheeks.
    The beautiful Brianna Phinney gracefully takes the seat next to mine. In the dancing glimmer of the candlelight, her perfect bow lips form a gentle smile. “Dear,” she calls me, and her endearment causes me to miss my mother. “Do you know anything about Mr. Brackett that might prove helpful, a contact number or