Excerpt from One Sister’s Song by Karen DeGroot Carter

After closing on her home in October 1980, Laura stood with Audrey on the front lawn, amazed the house belonged to her. The sisters shielded their eyes from the afternoon sun as they looked around. The neighborhood was full of mature trees, and Laura relished the thought of viewing their colorful display every fall. Each time a breeze rustled the sugar maples in her own yard, falling leaves traced silent, undulate paths around her and Audrey on the way down to rest at their feet.
       The house appeared regal in its sunlit orange and red frame. Laura recalled the first time she’d seen the farmhouse, how drawn she’d been to it. She’d loved its straight lines, the simplicity of its ordered windows, its solid, traditional bearing. Inside, she’d smoothed the ridges worn into the built-in shelves on both sides of the grand fireplace, marveled at the floorboards cut of so many different lengths, probably from a pine off the premises. The home’s evident history enthralled her.
        “It’s the kind of house old people haunt,” Audrey said.
         The young women stood side by side, like two soldiers saluting a looming sergeant. From another angle, they might have been mistaken for mother and daughter, with Laura in low heels and a maternity dress while Audrey sported jeans and a short sweater. Sunlight sparkled off their gold earrings, and off the small diamond ring on Laura’s left hand.
         “It may very well be haunted,” Laura said.
        Audrey squinted at her sister. “I meant by live people, not dead.”
         Laura brushed away her sarcasm, determined to savor the view for a few more minutes. She realized Audrey’s comments were laced with concern over her purchase of the house, and about the old home’s condition, which Laura admitted was poor. She’d bought the farmhouse for next to nothing, though, a fact she’d made clear to her sister many times. More importantly, she loved the old place, and knew this was her best chance to ever own a home like it. “The real estate agent told me there are stories behind it,” Laura said. “He said it may have been a site on the Underground Railroad.”
        “I say that guy saw you coming from a mile away,” Audrey replied.
        Laura smiled, then crossed the yard and ascended the porch stairs, brandishing her new key. Audrey watched, unmoving, as her sister opened the front door, entered her house, and was swallowed whole by its shadows.

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