Lola thought she was all out of miracles, but life might have some magic for the invisible girl yet...
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It's been fifteen years since a wayward spell turned Lola Lawrence invisible. She might have learnt to control the magic but life isn't any ea...
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"What in the hell..." I tug my sunglasses off my nose as I stand beside the open door of George's car. My mouth contorted somewhere between pure shock and horror. The house stands there like a white nightmare against the rolling green hills of the countryside and the pure azure of the sky. It was designed to look like a regency home, but its size and modern features cried out that it was newly built.
Did Lachlan really live here?
Exhaling, I approach the gate. I punch in the code Chelsea sent me and slip back into the car. A long and winding driveway leads me right up to the house, which seems to grow in scale and drama the closer I approach. My stomach is in steel knots, my head aching from a night of no sleep. Gracie was in between treatments, but her body was still fragile, and she caught every bug, and each one tore her up in a way that barely touched anyone else. She was better this morning, but it had been another long night.
As I pull up before the house, the large door, framed by two stone pillars, opens and Chelsea totters out. Her beautiful face lit up with a genuine smile that made me feel even worse. At the bottom of the stairs, she tugs an expense-looking wrap around herself. She's in another outfit made up entirely of creams and beiges.
I take a deep breath before climbing out of the car. Adding a smile to my face that feels unnatural and sliced across the flesh.
"Laura!" she cries, and it takes a second to remind me of my work identity. I widen my smile and walk closer. She pulls me into a hug, and I try not to flinch. I wish I could dislike this woman. But she makes it impossibly hard. She even smells good. "I'm so glad you came. Come in, come in."
She turns and I follow her up the stone steps, glancing around at the space. A large building peeks out from around the back of the house. A garage big enough for nearly a dozen cars, and surrounded the outskirts of the house were the first hints of what was probably an equally grand and well-kept garden.
Biting my lip, I follow her in. I gasp when I walk into the entranceway, looking around at the room shining in more shades of white and dove grey. Mirrors hang across the walls, making the space seem even bigger and large vases are dotted everywhere with fat velvety blooms in more white. She probably pays her florist more a month than I do my landlord. She stands in the centre of the space, her hand on her hip, grinning at my response. Except for the enormous garage, there is nothing I've seen so far that makes me think of Lachlan at all. There's no sign of him anywhere.
"This place is..."
"I know right!" She says brightly, leading me out of the entranceway and into an equally large and shining reception room. With sofas the size of king beds, everything is covered in white fur throws and rugs. She sinks on one and indicates for me to sit on the other. I smile weakly, tugging out my iPad just for something to hold. Above a fireplace is a large wedding photo of her and Lachlan – they look perfect. And I'm forcing myself with everything I have to ignore it.
