The police gave me permission to return to Willow Grove after 5 days. Agnes had cancelled more of the bookings, but we were due to open again in a few days.

How could we? Nothing was ready. Not the building and certainly not me.

The carpet stain in the guest room was a dark, rusty brown. Fortunately, I didn't need to use the room for about a month so there would be time to change it even though a crime scene clean up team was due later today.

Echoes of conversations with Marcus over the years ran through my mind. He would tell me to leave Willow Grove.

I wanted to get away from those memories, they were the words of the man I wanted him to be, not who he was.

Honestly, I didn't want to leave. Now I knew I was connected to the earth beneath my feet and the life that pulsed through the soil. It drew me here. Which was a good thing, as I couldn't leave anyway.

Alone, each creak of the building took on a sinister note, but I was going to make this place something I was proud of. This wasn't just a building. It was a place where people came to relax and go on holiday. I wanted to create fond memories with other people like my gran had done for me.

I walked through each of the rooms, running my fingers over the surfaces, mindful of what I could feel. U wanted to see if the world felt different to me.

Every touch seemed to surge with energy. Was it a connection with the earth or just a dream and a fantasy I created to take me away from the stress of the last week?

I could visualise dining in the conservatory. They were laughing and sharing stories over fresh scones and tea. I wondered if I could turn it into a tearoom to attract more guests during the day once I'd been here for a while.

Light from the stained glass bounced around the room, and potted plants grew towards the light. I would create a retreat for travellers, a place where they could sit in wicker chairs and be surrounded by nature. A place which would be a haven for all who came to stay.

I wandered into the main garden. While the courtyard was tamed, since gran's death the garden had become overgrown and in need of care. I visualised children running around, chasing butterflies. There were couples strolling along the pebbled paths. I imagined afternoon tea under a gazebo. I could even hold painting retreats. The view was so stunning.

I even identified a corner of the garden where I could keep goats.

With each new idea, the shadow of death and my isolation seemed to recede. I would make this my home and create a place of life and growth so gran's legacy lived on.

I took a seat in gran's courtyard. The air was pleasant and scented with honeysuckle. I was in gran's sanctuary, holding the letter she had left me. The paper was slightly yellowed, covered in gran's spidery handwriting. The message on the front said I was not to read the letter until I had moved in properly. I guess that was now.

I broke the seal and unfolded the letter..

My Dearest Evelyn.

If you are reading this, then you have followed my wishes and are in the house. This house is more than just bricks and mortar. It holds memories and secrets, and now it is your responsibility.

I hope that you have felt the land by now. It speaks in whispers and it looks after those who walk on it. You have a special connection with it, Evelyn. It's a gift that has been passed down through the family.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. There is a reason for this letter. There is a safe behind the mirror in the master bedroom. The combination is your birthday, day, month, year, a date that marks both an ending and a beginning.

There are things inside that safe that have been hidden away for years, waiting for the right time. Now, that time is up to you. Use them wisely, my girl.

All my love, I miss you more than you know.

May

I folded the letter. A safe? Secrets hidden behind a mirror, just like in one of those mystery novels she used to read to me. I took a deep breath and headed to the master bedroom. The air smelled of lavender and thyme, gran's scent.

The mirror was large and ornate, with a detailed frame. I ran my fingers over the carvings, wondering how to move it without dropping it because I didn't want it to break. Fortunately, it slid to one side easily, revealing the safe in the wall.

I entered my birth date into the keypad rather than the dial I envisioned when I read the letter. The safe door clicked open, revealing darkness. There was nothing obvious in there. I reached inside and my fingers closed around a flat object. I pulled it out.

Worn leather wrapped around something flat and rectangular. I place the package on the dressing table and carefully opened the wrapping. Inside was a photograph in an ornate frame. The woman in the portrait looked back at me, with gran's features, but she was someone I'd never met.

I turned over the frame and attached to the back was a note. The paper was old and fragile, but the writing was clear. I read the words:

"Roots entwine and time will tell,

Secrets kept in earth's sweet swell,

Seek where ancient whispers dwell,

For there lies truth beneath the spell."

I noticed a symbol at the bottom of the note. It was familiar. I looked back at gran's letter and saw the same symbol.

I felt a jolt of recognition. It was some kind of message. I wondered who the woman in the photograph was. Could she be an ancestor who shared our gift? What did this riddle mean?

I traced the symbol with my finger, feeling a warmth. The new energy I felt within me responded, as if recognising an old friend.

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