Ashes Beneath the Floorboards

 

The house had been quiet for years, but tonight it felt alive.

Claire knelt on the warped wooden floor of her late grandmother’s parlor, the same floor she had played on as a child. The house smelled of dust and rain-soaked earth, like it had been holding its breath since the funeral.

She pried up the first loose board, just as her grandmother’s note had instructed. There are things I never told you, Claire. Look where the boards creak the loudest.

Her fingers trembled as she pulled the board free. Beneath it lay a metal box blackened with soot. When she opened it, the smell of smoke and char filled the air, as if the fire had been trapped there for decades.

Inside were fragments of letters—half-burned but still legible. They spoke of an affair, a child no one knew about, and a fire that had not been an accident after all.

Claire’s breath caught. Her family had whispered for years about the blaze that destroyed the neighboring house when her mother was a girl. They said it was lightning. They said it was fate.

But the letters told another story. Her grandfather had set the fire.

The floorboard creaked behind her. Claire spun around. Her uncle stood in the doorway, his face pale, his eyes hard.

“You weren’t supposed to find that,” he said quietly.

Claire clutched the box to her chest. The house groaned as the wind howled outside.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Finally, Claire spoke, her voice steady. “This house kept your secret long enough. Not anymore.”

She stood, box in hand, and walked past him into the stormy night. Behind her, the house settled, the floorboards silent at last. Read more free download click here