The House of Secrets had never failed to intrigue Candice and me. Atop Greenwood Hill, it stood isolated. Surrounded by stone walls, electrified fencing, and lookout towers, did it harbour a secret?
But what secret and whose? We never knew.
We had never seen anyone going in or coming out. The iron gates were heavily padlocked. Every dusk the lights mysteriously turned on, and every dawn as mysteriously turned off. We even counted the lights. Fifty-four. We watched it every day, fascinated.
For two days l did not go…Candice died mysteriously.
Today l am back, counting the lights again. Fifty-five.