Afterlife (Second Eden #1) by Aaron Burdett Page A

boat as he took mighty strides toward the behemoth black structure near the horizon.  
    This Marina Arshakuni knew of the Deep, and she traveled with the dust devils. Once he took care of this emergency, he would return for her, and he would tear everything she knew of the Deep from her tongue while he watched her body blacken and crumble to dust.

CHAPTER EIGHT
Tea Time

    Ms. Flannery’s house loomed before Amber in all its peeling white glory. White panels, white window trimming, white window sills, and even a white brick chimney gave the house a kind of tired church-like motif compared to the reds and browns of the neighboring homes.  
    Amber stepped onto the pale pavement strip dividing the neat grass of the front lawn. She made her way up the porch and lifted a fist to knock on the door. The inner door whipped open before her knuckles could land, and Ms. Flannery appeared with a broad smile behind the screen. “Oh, Amber, what a welcome surprise! Do come in, do come in!”
    Eliza Flannery lived alone, her husband having passed away a few years ago. While he lived, they never much interacted with their neighbors. But once he died, Ms. Flannery slowly ventured out of their home with ever-increasing regularity until she became a fixture in most of the neighborhood organizations and clubs. She had keen eyes and kept them trained on others with frightening consistency. And while she claimed she never engaged in idle gossip, she did know many things about many people and loved to hint as much to anyone who would listen.
    She adored a neatly-pressed, A-line skirt paired with a fitted blouse and wore them as often as Amber wore her school uniform. The quick washing up and down her eyes gave Amber betrayed the woman’s disapproval of her current attire, but something else also swirled within them that irked Amber even more. Worry. Pity.
    Amber followed Ms. Flannery into the house. It smelled of aging potpourri and faintly of cigars. If she remembered correctly, Mr. Flannery had been a fan of them before his passing.  
    Ms. Flannery swished to the breakfast nook nestled in the bay window of her kitchen. She hummed to herself as she set a kettle on to boil and pulled some clinking porcelain teacups from her china cabinet. “I’m so glad you could drop by. It’s terribly lonely here on the weekends. I’ve been looking at helping out at New Hope off Peverly Hill. The minister there is just an absolute mess organizationally and I am quite sure I could help significantly.” She sighed through her nose, her lips a tight line. “It’s just unbearable always being in this house by myself.”
    “I know how you feel. My house is pretty empty right now too.”
    Ms. Flannery muttered agreement as she slipped on her reading glasses and thumbed through a pantry. “Oh goodness, yes, I forget myself.” Her wrinkled lips snapped into a smile. “But isn’t it exciting how your mother is off doing some good for the world?”
    “Not sure if taking pics of frogs is doing good for the world, but it does sound better than doing projects for school on the weekend.”
    “School? That’s right, I saw your friend Jason drop you off in that adorable Mercedes. It looks like you two collected quite a few things in that backseat!”
    “We checked out a bunch of garage sales for an art project,” Amber said, choosing to ignore the slightly-irritating fact that Ms. Flannery had been watching them.
    “Indeed, indeed.” Eliza pulled out a few tea bags and plopped them in the cups. “You know I’ve heard some very interesting things about that boy. Very interesting.”
    “I’m sure you’ve heard some interesting things about both of us.”
    Ms. Flannery flashed a closed-lip smile and joined Amber at the table. “So tell me what you bought on your garage adventures. Mr. Flannery loved searching for knickknacks and the like. You know he lectured at SNHU, don’t you? Spent most of our first decade of marriage hunting goods stolen by the