Chapter 1: Introduction
The cool night air nipped at Donut's nose as he led Ava towards his house, hand in hand. The leaves crunched underfoot, and the scent of wood smoke wafted through the air. Ava shivered, and Donut tightened his grip on her hand.
"Cold?" he asked, giving her a sideways smile.
Ava grinned back. "A little. But I'm enjoying the walk. I've never been to this part of town before."
Donut shrugged. "Not much to see, really.
Just a bunch of old houses and quiet streets," Donut said as they turned onto his block. The houses lining the street were indeed old, with their Victorian architecture and slightly crooked roofs. The moonlight cast long shadows, giving the neighborhood a slightly eerie atmosphere.
Ava frowned slightly as they approached Donut's house. "Is that... a windmill?" she asked, tilting her head towards a large, peculiar structure in the backyard.
Donut laughed, a soft, nervous sound. "Oh, that? Yeah, that's just... a windmill. My mom has a thing for them.
She says they remind her of Holland," Donut explained, opening the creaky gate to their front yard. Ava's eyes widened as they walked up the path. The house was unlike any she had seen before. It was tall and narrow, with a steeply pitched roof and a wrap-around porch that reminded her of a gingerbread house. The windmill in the backyard completed the eccentric scene.
"Wow, this place is... unique," Ava said, her eyes taking in the quirky details. Donut grinned, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah, it's old. My mom's family built it generations ago.
It's kinda fallen into disrepair over the years, but Mom loves it," Donut said, fishing his keys out of his pocket. Ava nodded, her eyes scanning the intricate carvings on the porch railing.
Donut pushed open the heavy front door, and Ava stepped inside, her eyes widening at the sudden change in temperature. The house was warm, almost uncomfortably so, and the air was thick with the scent of something sweet and spicy.
"Mom?" Donut called out, hanging up his coat on a peg by the door.
Ava followed suit, her fingers brushing against Donut's as she reached for an empty peg. She looked up at him, smiling, and he felt his heart skip a beat. He hoped this time would be different. He hoped his mother would behave.
"In here, sweetie!" Laura's voice echoed from the living room, a sing-song lilt to it. Donut led Ava down the narrow hallway, their shoulders brushing against the wallpaper that was peeling in places. Ava glanced at the photos lining the walls, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
Most of the pictures were of Donut at various ages, but a few were of women she didn't recognize. They all had a striking resemblance to Laura, with their round faces and wide smiles.
The living room was a cozy space, filled with an eclectic mix of furniture and knickknacks. A large, plush couch sat in the center, surrounded by worn-out armchairs and plant stands overflowing with greenery. Laura sat on the couch, her legs tucked under her, a mug of tea in one hand and a book in the other. She looked up as they entered, her eyes lighting up with a warm smile.
"Ava! It's so nice to finally meet you, dear." Laura set her mug down and patted the couch next to her. "Come, sit. Make yourself comfortable."
Ava exchanged a glance with Donut before walking over and sitting down cautiously. "Thanks, Laura. It's nice to meet you too," she said, her eyes flicking over the book in Laura's hand. "What are you reading?"
Laura beamed. "Oh, just a little something about the windmill's history. Donut's grandmother was quite the historian, you know.