Secret Room Discovery
April 30, 2025 – Fredericksburg, Virginia
-
The morning light streamed through the study windows, casting golden rectangles across the worn hardwood floor. Amelia adjusted the settings on the thermal imaging camera Eli had provided, its sleek modern design incongruous against the faded Victorian wallpaper. The sound of birds calling one another added to the ambience of the historical mystery they hoped to unlock within the aging walls.
"The Merriweather Foundation really came through," Eli said, laying out the rest of the equipment on the antique desk. "Ground-penetrating radar, air quality monitors, even some specialized tools for document handling if we find what we're looking for."
Amelia nodded appreciatively, her focus already on the eastern wall where the bookcase stood like a sentinel guarding secrets. "Let's start with the thermal imaging. If there's a space behind this wall, there should be temperature differentials we can detect."
She raised the camera, its digital display glowing with false-color images as she slowly panned across the wall. The structure appeared in blues and greens on the screen, the ambient temperature consistent until she reached the area behind the large bookcase.
"There," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you see that?"
Eli moved closer, his shoulder brushing against hers as he leaned in to view the display. The subtle rosewater scent from her hair momentarily distracted him—a smell that took him back to another time. He blinked, forcibly redirecting his attention back to the thermal anomalies on the screen.
The area behind the bookcase showed a distinct thermal signature—cooler than the surrounding wall, with clear boundaries that suggested an enclosed space.
"It's definitely there," he confirmed, barely able to contain his excitement.
The temperature difference showed a room that might have its own ventilation system, keeping it cooler than the outer walls of the house.
Amelia handed him the camera and retrieved a powerful LED flashlight from their equipment on the desk. "Let's see if we can find the access point."
She pulled the curtains and shut off the lights in the room before directing the beam at the sharp angles along the wall surrounding the bookcase. The intense light revealed subtle details invisible under normal illumination. The flashlight's harsh glare exposed minute irregularities in the wood paneling—hairline seams that didn't quite match the decorative patterns where the wood grain shifted ever so slightly.
"Look at this," she said, tracing her finger along what appeared to be a nearly invisible line in the wainscoting beside the bookcase. "You were right. This doesn't follow the natural woodwork pattern. It's a deliberate seam."
Eli joined her, running his hand along the wall. He searched for a hidden mechanism, testing slight pressure points along the panel. His fingers paused at a subtle indentation in the wood. "Here. Feel this."
Amelia placed her fingers where he indicated, feeling a slight depression that might easily be mistaken for normal wear. She applied gentle pressure, and they both heard a faint click from somewhere inside the wall.
"Try the bookcase now," Eli suggested, stepping back to give her room.
Amelia placed her hands on the edge of the massive bookshelf and pulled gently. At first, nothing happened, but then she felt a slight give. The bookcase moved on hidden hinges, revealing a passage that disappeared into shadow.
The scent hit Amelia first—not the expected mustiness of a long-sealed space, but something sharper, more clinical. Beneath it lay the faintest hint of something floral that triggered an immediate sense of recognition. Lavender.
"We need to test the air before we go any further," Amelia said, reaching for the air monitoring equipment nearby.
She activated the device and carefully extended it into the opening, watching as it analyzed the oxygen content, carbon dioxide levels, and potential presence of harmful gases. The small screen displayed its readings in green numbers, indicating acceptable levels as she checked the air at various heights.
"Oxygen is normal," she reported. "The air seems safe enough, but we should still proceed with caution. I'll go first—"
"Allow me," Eli said quietly, stepping forward with unconscious authority.
Amelia's firm refusal made him pause. "No. I'm the Entry Supervisor—protocol requires I assess the space before anyone else enters."
Something flickered across his features before he stepped back with careful grace. "Of course. Protocol takes precedence." His tone held the formal courtesy of someone accustomed to deference, though his eyes remained fixed on the dark opening with unmistakable intensity.
She reached for her N99 mask from their supplies. "If Eleanor was storing botanical or biological specimens, there could be spores or other particulates that may have remained dormant. Better to be safe than sorry."
Amelia secured the mask over her face. She paused at the threshold of the hidden doorway, aware that she was about to step into a space untouched for perhaps more than a century—a place deliberately concealed and preserved through generations of silence.
"Here we go," she murmured, more to herself than to Eli, and stepped through the opening.
The passage opened to reveal a narrow wooden staircase descending into darkness. The wooden floorboards creaked softly beneath her feet as she stepped carefully to the edge, sweeping her flashlight down the stairs, looking for any hazards—and, of course, any secrets. What she saw wasn't what she expected.
"Eli," she called back over her shoulder, her voice slightly muffled by the mask. "There's a staircase here going down. It looks old but intact."
"Be safe down there," Eli called after her, his voice tinged with professional concern.
Amelia turned back, a hint of amusement playing across her features despite the tension of the moment. "You know I know what I'm doing, right?" she replied with a slight lift of her eyebrow. "This isn't my first potentially hazardous space entry."
"Of course.” Something crossed Eli's face—not quite embarrassment, gone too quickly to name. "Forgive me. Old habits die hard." The words carried weight, as if 'old habits' might span more years than most people possessed.
She nodded, appreciating his concern even as she asserted her expertise. Turning back to the dark staircase, Amelia methodically began testing the air quality, extending the sampling hose from her monitoring equipment with her right hand, drawing samples from different elevations within the passage while her left maintained a steady grip on the flashlight, casting its beam into the shadows below.
She moved the sampling hose lower, watching the digital readout carefully. "So far, so good," she muttered to herself
Decades of undisturbed dust that sparkled in the harsh beam of her flashlight as she traced her path.
"All readings show safe atmospheric conditions," she finally announced. "I'm proceeding down."
With deliberate care, Amelia placed her foot on the first step. The old wood creaked softly under her weight, but held firm. She tested each subsequent step with similar caution before committing her full weight, maintaining three points of contact as she descended into the darkness. The beam of her flashlight swept ahead, revealing more of the narrow wooden staircase as she descended deeper into the hidden space.
The air grew noticeably cooler with each step. Her scientific mind registered these details automatically, filing them away as data points to be analyzed later. For now, her focus remained on safe entry protocol and the tantalizing mystery that awaited at the bottom of these long-hidden stairs.
With the next step, she nearly threw all the safety protocols out the window.
As she swept her flashlight, it revealed what appeared to be a perfectly preserved scientific workspace. Cedar-lined shelves lined the walls, holding dozens of glass containers sealed with what appeared to be wax and cloth. A simple wooden table stood against the far wall, its surface arranged with meticulous precision—glass instruments, small wooden boxes, and several leather-bound journals lay exactly as Eleanor must have left them over a century and a half ago.
Everything in her wanted to dive into all the treasures she had just found, but she knew she needed to push down that excitement and sample the air below before she could enjoy her bounty.
It didn’t take that much longer to make sure the small eight foot by sixteen foot-ish chamber was safe.
"Eli," she called. "You can come in. It's safe."
He made his way down to the preserved laboratory. His gaze moved methodically across the shelves, lingering on certain specimens with an intensity that might have troubled Amelia had she not been so captivated by her own discovery.
"This is... extraordinary," he murmured, approaching a row of small glass vials. "The preservation conditions… they’re… well, perfect. The temperature, the humidity—all carefully controlled."
Amelia moved to examine the journals on the workspace, carefully opening the top one to reveal pages of precise scientific observations, chemical formulas, and detailed sketches of cellular structures as viewed through what must have been a relatively primitive microscope.
Eli opened a sealed cedar box, revealing Thomas's wartime diaries and sermon notebooks. He handled them with reverence, though his attention kept drifting toward the other specimens arrayed throughout the chamber.
Amelia spotted several small containers in a neat row—glass vials containing what appeared to be botanical specimens, tissue samples preserved in amber-colored solutions, and other materials Eleanor had deemed worthy of preservation. But it was the single item set apart from the others that drew her eye.
"Look at this," she breathed, approaching a delicate gold brooch that sat alone in its own cedar-lined compartment. Clearly a mourning piece, it had been modified with scientific precision—its glass chamber containing a coiled lock of dark hair, perfectly preserved.
Amelia turned the brooch over in her palm, revealing delicate engraving on the gold backing: "E.C. - Always Between Light and Shadow - T.E."
Eli went still. When he moved toward her, each step seemed measured, deliberate. "May I examine that?" His voice came out too steady, too controlled. His eyes fixed on the brooch with the intensity of a man who had found something he'd been seeking for a very long time.
Amelia carefully lifted the mourning brooch, noting how it had been modified to create a sealed specimen container. As she handed it to Eli, their fingers brushed, and a strange tingling sensation shot up her arm. She attributed it to the static electricity in the dry, preserved air.
Eli examined the brooch with reverence, turning it over in his hands. "This is it," he whispered, almost to himself.
"What do you mean 'this is it'?" Amelia asked, suddenly alert to something changed in his demeanor.
Eli looked up, composing his features. "This is exactly what we were hoping to find—evidence of Eleanor's scientific work. Her preserved biological samples. Do you understand what this means?"
Before she could answer, a wave of dizziness washed over her. She reached for the edge of the table to steady herself.
Eli watched her sway, his hand moving to steady her before she'd fully begun to fall. His touch was sure, practiced. But his attention kept drifting back to the brooch, as if it held answers to questions he'd been asking for longer than seemed possible.
"Just a little light-headed," she said, though the sensation was unlike anything she'd experienced before—a strange combination of vertigo and heightened awareness.
"Let's get some air," he suggested, but Amelia pulled away, drawn back to the specimens.
"No, I'm fine. There’s been no alarm,” she said as she double checked the air.
“Yes, but—”
“Eli, this is too important." She gestured toward the collection. "These specimens have been preserved for over 160 years. They could contain viable DNA, cellular structures, and we just opened the door to father time the moment we cracked this vault."
He held her gaze steadily. "I understand. The Merriweather Foundation has been interested in historical biological preservation for generations–and we've never found specimens this well preserved, but your health is important, too."
Another wave of dizziness hit her, stronger this time, accompanied by a strange sensitivity to the light from her flashlight. She winced, turning away from the beam.
"Amelia," Eli said, concern evident in his voice. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I’m fine," she said, even though it was obvious that she was not fine.
Eli hesitated, studying her with an expression that seemed torn between concern and calculation. "You should sit down," he finally said, guiding her to a wooden chair in the corner. "How long have you been feeling this way?"
"Just started," she admitted, the dizziness slowly subsiding. "Must be the air down here, despite the readings."
“I’m not sure about that.” Eli's gaze moved from Amelia to the specimens and back, as if making some internal connection he wasn't sharing.
"You think I've been exposed to the so-called Academic Flu, don’t you?" Amelia asked, her scientific mind racing ahead despite her discomfort.
Eli contemplated how he wanted to respond. “Not necessarily.”
“Not necessarily? What does that even mean?”
He took a deep breath, giving him a moment to pose his thoughts. "I just mean that with everything going on… that it—that it might be a lot to take in. That’s all.”
“Is it that for you?”
“Yes, it’s quite an emotional experience, don’t you think?” he said as he shook his head up and down.
“It is. But it’s what I’ve been searching for… hopefully,” she tacked on since the scientist in her knew it might not be the end of her journey.
“Okay.” Eli picked up one of Eleanor's journals, turning pages with deliberate care. "I guess we’re going to finish.” he glanced at the containers that contained Eleanor’s hair samples. "Perhaps we should run some tests on these specimens. The Foundation has laboratory facilities nearby."
“I guess with my school closing, it might be the best option,” Amelia reluctantly agreed, concerned about both the specimens and the man studying them with such intense focus. "Alright. We document everything, then transport the samples to your lab. But I want full access to all findings and complete transparency."
"Of course," Eli agreed, though something in his eyes suggested he was holding more back than he was revealing. "Partners in research."
As they began carefully cataloging the contents of Eleanor's hidden laboratory, Amelia couldn't shake the feeling that she had crossed a threshold—both literally and figuratively—into territory far more complex than a simple historical discovery. Whatever Eleanor had been studying, it was clearly something Eli Merriweather had been searching for with an intensity that went beyond academic interest.
The brooch containing Eleanor's preserved hair sample seemed to gleam in the flashlight beam, connecting past and present in ways Amelia was only beginning to understand.The morning light streamed through the study windows, casting golden rectangles across the worn hardwood floor. Amelia adjusted the settings on the thermal imaging camera Eli had provided, its sleek modern design incongruous against the faded Victorian wallpaper. The sound of birds calling one another added to the ambience of the historical mystery they hoped to unlock within the aging walls.
"The Merriweather Foundation really came through," Eli said, laying out the rest of the equipment on the antique desk. "Ground-penetrating radar, air quality monitors, even some specialized tools for document handling if we find what we're looking for."
Amelia nodded appreciatively, her focus already on the eastern wall where the bookcase stood like a sentinel guarding secrets. "Let's start with the thermal imaging. If there's a space behind this wall, there should be temperature differentials we can detect."
She raised the camera, its digital display glowing with false-color images as she slowly panned across the wall. The structure appeared in blues and greens on the screen, the ambient temperature consistent until she reached the area behind the large bookcase.
"There," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Do you see that?"
Eli moved closer, his shoulder brushing against hers as he leaned in to view the display. The subtle rosewater scent from her hair momentarily distracted him—a smell that took him back to another time. He blinked, forcibly redirecting his attention back to the thermal anomalies on the screen.
The area behind the bookcase showed a distinct thermal signature—cooler than the surrounding wall, with clear boundaries that suggested an enclosed space.
"It's definitely there," he confirmed, barely able to contain his excitement.
The temperature difference showed a room that might have its own ventilation system, keeping it cooler than the outer walls of the house.
Amelia handed him the camera and retrieved a powerful LED flashlight from their equipment on the desk. "Let's see if we can find the access point."
She pulled the curtains and shut off the lights in the room before directing the beam at the sharp angles along the wall surrounding the bookcase. The intense light revealed subtle details invisible under normal illumination. The flashlight's harsh glare exposed minute irregularities in the wood paneling—hairline seams that didn't quite match the decorative patterns where the wood grain shifted ever so slightly.
"Look at this," she said, tracing her finger along what appeared to be a nearly invisible line in the wainscoting beside the bookcase. "You were right. This doesn't follow the natural woodwork pattern. It's a deliberate seam."
Eli joined her, running his hand along the wall. He searched for a hidden mechanism, testing slight pressure points along the panel. His fingers paused at a subtle indentation in the wood. "Here. Feel this."
Amelia placed her fingers where he indicated, feeling a slight depression that might easily be mistaken for normal wear. She applied gentle pressure, and they both heard a faint click from somewhere inside the wall.
"Try the bookcase now," Eli suggested, stepping back to give her room.
Amelia placed her hands on the edge of the massive bookshelf and pulled gently. At first, nothing happened, but then she felt a slight give. The bookcase moved on hidden hinges, revealing a passage that disappeared into shadow.
The scent hit Amelia first—not the expected mustiness of a long-sealed space, but something sharper, more clinical. Beneath it lay the faintest hint of something floral that triggered an immediate sense of recognition. Lavender.
"We need to test the air before we go any further," Amelia said, reaching for the air monitoring equipment nearby.
She activated the device and carefully extended it into the opening, watching as it analyzed the oxygen content, carbon dioxide levels, and potential presence of harmful gases. The small screen displayed its readings in green numbers, indicating acceptable levels as she checked the air at various heights.
"Oxygen is normal," she reported. "The air seems safe enough, but we should still proceed with caution. I'll go first—"
"Allow me," Eli said quietly, stepping forward with unconscious authority.
Amelia's firm refusal made him pause. "No. I'm the Entry Supervisor—protocol requires I assess the space before anyone else enters."
Something flickered across his features before he stepped back with careful grace. "Of course. Protocol takes precedence." His tone held the formal courtesy of someone accustomed to deference, though his eyes remained fixed on the dark opening with unmistakable intensity.
She reached for her N99 mask from their supplies. "If Eleanor was storing botanical or biological specimens, there could be spores or other particulates that may have remained dormant. Better to be safe than sorry."
Amelia secured the mask over her face. She paused at the threshold of the hidden doorway, aware that she was about to step into a space untouched for perhaps more than a century—a place deliberately concealed and preserved through generations of silence.
"Here we go," she murmured, more to herself than to Eli, and stepped through the opening.
The passage opened to reveal a narrow wooden staircase descending into darkness. The wooden floorboards creaked softly beneath her feet as she stepped carefully to the edge, sweeping her flashlight down the stairs, looking for any hazards—and, of course, any secrets. What she saw wasn't what she expected.
"Eli," she called back over her shoulder, her voice slightly muffled by the mask. "There's a staircase here going down. It looks old but intact."
"Be safe down there," Eli called after her, his voice tinged with professional concern.
Amelia turned back, a hint of amusement playing across her features despite the tension of the moment. "You know I know what I'm doing, right?" she replied with a slight lift of her eyebrow. "This isn't my first potentially hazardous space entry."
"Of course.” Something crossed Eli's face—not quite embarrassment, gone too quickly to name. "Forgive me. Old habits die hard." The words carried weight, as if 'old habits' might span more years than most people possessed.
She nodded, appreciating his concern even as she asserted her expertise. Turning back to the dark staircase, Amelia methodically began testing the air quality, extending the sampling hose from her monitoring equipment with her right hand, drawing samples from different elevations within the passage while her left maintained a steady grip on the flashlight, casting its beam into the shadows below.
She moved the sampling hose lower, watching the digital readout carefully. "So far, so good," she muttered to herself
Decades of undisturbed dust that sparkled in the harsh beam of her flashlight as she traced her path.
"All readings show safe atmospheric conditions," she finally announced. "I'm proceeding down."
With deliberate care, Amelia placed her foot on the first step. The old wood creaked softly under her weight, but held firm. She tested each subsequent step with similar caution before committing her full weight, maintaining three points of contact as she descended into the darkness. The beam of her flashlight swept ahead, revealing more of the narrow wooden staircase as she descended deeper into the hidden space.
The air grew noticeably cooler with each step. Her scientific mind registered these details automatically, filing them away as data points to be analyzed later. For now, her focus remained on safe entry protocol and the tantalizing mystery that awaited at the bottom of these long-hidden stairs.
With the next step, she nearly threw all the safety protocols out the window.
As she swept her flashlight, it revealed what appeared to be a perfectly preserved scientific workspace. Cedar-lined shelves lined the walls, holding dozens of glass containers sealed with what appeared to be wax and cloth. A simple wooden table stood against the far wall, its surface arranged with meticulous precision—glass instruments, small wooden boxes, and several leather-bound journals lay exactly as Eleanor must have left them over a century and a half ago.
Everything in her wanted to dive into all the treasures she had just found, but she knew she needed to push down that excitement and sample the air below before she could enjoy her bounty.
It didn’t take that much longer to make sure the small eight foot by sixteen foot-ish chamber was safe.
"Eli," she called. "You can come in. It's safe."
He made his way down to the preserved laboratory. His gaze moved methodically across the shelves, lingering on certain specimens with an intensity that might have troubled Amelia had she not been so captivated by her own discovery.
"This is... extraordinary," he murmured, approaching a row of small glass vials. "The preservation conditions… they’re… well, perfect. The temperature, the humidity—all carefully controlled."
Amelia moved to examine the journals on the workspace, carefully opening the top one to reveal pages of precise scientific observations, chemical formulas, and detailed sketches of cellular structures as viewed through what must have been a relatively primitive microscope.
Eli opened a sealed cedar box, revealing Thomas's wartime diaries and sermon notebooks. He handled them with reverence, though his attention kept drifting toward the other specimens arrayed throughout the chamber.
Amelia spotted several small containers in a neat row—glass vials containing what appeared to be botanical specimens, tissue samples preserved in amber-colored solutions, and other materials Eleanor had deemed worthy of preservation. But it was the single item set apart from the others that drew her eye.
"Look at this," she breathed, approaching a delicate gold brooch that sat alone in its own cedar-lined compartment. Clearly a mourning piece, it had been modified with scientific precision—its glass chamber containing a coiled lock of dark hair, perfectly preserved.
Amelia turned the brooch over in her palm, revealing delicate engraving on the gold backing: "E.C. - Always Between Light and Shadow - T.E."
Eli went still. When he moved toward her, each step seemed measured, deliberate. "May I examine that?" His voice came out too steady, too controlled. His eyes fixed on the brooch with the intensity of a man who had found something he'd been seeking for a very long time.
Amelia carefully lifted the mourning brooch, noting how it had been modified to create a sealed specimen container. As she handed it to Eli, their fingers brushed, and a strange tingling sensation shot up her arm. She attributed it to the static electricity in the dry, preserved air.
Eli examined the brooch with reverence, turning it over in his hands. "This is it," he whispered, almost to himself.
"What do you mean 'this is it'?" Amelia asked, suddenly alert to something changed in his demeanor.
Eli looked up, composing his features. "This is exactly what we were hoping to find—evidence of Eleanor's scientific work. Her preserved biological samples. Do you understand what this means?"
Before she could answer, a wave of dizziness washed over her. She reached for the edge of the table to steady herself.
Eli watched her sway, his hand moving to steady her before she'd fully begun to fall. His touch was sure, practiced. But his attention kept drifting back to the brooch, as if it held answers to questions he'd been asking for longer than seemed possible.
"Just a little light-headed," she said, though the sensation was unlike anything she'd experienced before—a strange combination of vertigo and heightened awareness.
"Let's get some air," he suggested, but Amelia pulled away, drawn back to the specimens.
"No, I'm fine. There’s been no alarm,” she said as she double checked the air.
“Yes, but—”
“Eli, this is too important." She gestured toward the collection. "These specimens have been preserved for over 160 years. They could contain viable DNA, cellular structures, and we just opened the door to father time the moment we cracked this vault."
He held her gaze steadily. "I understand. The Merriweather Foundation has been interested in historical biological preservation for generations–and we've never found specimens this well preserved, but your health is important, too."
Another wave of dizziness hit her, stronger this time, accompanied by a strange sensitivity to the light from her flashlight. She winced, turning away from the beam.
"Amelia," Eli said, concern evident in his voice. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, I’m fine," she said, even though it was obvious that she was not fine.
Eli hesitated, studying her with an expression that seemed torn between concern and calculation. "You should sit down," he finally said, guiding her to a wooden chair in the corner. "How long have you been feeling this way?"
"Just started," she admitted, the dizziness slowly subsiding. "Must be the air down here, despite the readings."
“I’m not sure about that.” Eli's gaze moved from Amelia to the specimens and back, as if making some internal connection he wasn't sharing.
"You think I've been exposed to the so-called Academic Flu, don’t you?" Amelia asked, her scientific mind racing ahead despite her discomfort.
Eli contemplated how he wanted to respond. “Not necessarily.”
“Not necessarily? What does that even mean?”
He took a deep breath, giving him a moment to pose his thoughts. "I just mean that with everything going on… that it—that it might be a lot to take in. That’s all.”
“Is it that for you?”
“Yes, it’s quite an emotional experience, don’t you think?” he said as he shook his head up and down.
“It is. But it’s what I’ve been searching for… hopefully,” she tacked on since the scientist in her knew it might not be the end of her journey.
“Okay.” Eli picked up one of Eleanor's journals, turning pages with deliberate care. "I guess we’re going to finish.” he glanced at the containers that contained Eleanor’s hair samples. "Perhaps we should run some tests on these specimens. The Foundation has laboratory facilities nearby."
“I guess with my school closing, it might be the best option,” Amelia reluctantly agreed, concerned about both the specimens and the man studying them with such intense focus. "Alright. We document everything, then transport the samples to your lab. But I want full access to all findings and complete transparency."
"Of course," Eli agreed, though something in his eyes suggested he was holding more back than he was revealing. "Partners in research."
As they began carefully cataloging the contents of Eleanor's hidden laboratory, Amelia couldn't shake the feeling that she had crossed a threshold—both literally and figuratively—into territory far more complex than a simple historical discovery. Whatever Eleanor had been studying, it was clearly something Eli Merriweather had been searching for with an intensity that went beyond academic interest.
The brooch containing Eleanor's preserved hair sample seemed to gleam in the flashlight beam, connecting past and present in ways Amelia was only beginning to understand.
AUTHOR’S NOTES
It was so interesting writing this chapter.
In all the books or movies I’ve ever read in these types of situations, they never check the air quality but, believe it or not, Morgan and I are doing our level best at keeping things “real” in this zombie romance of ours.
If you read the Author’s Notes in Chapter 12, you know this is something I’ve actually been trained on and done. I’ve been lucky enough to go into massive pipes that transport water here in California (USA), along with other confined spaces that require atmospheric testing.
Truly, it’s no joke when you go in, because you could die—and there isn’t a zombie virus to bring you back (at least that I’m aware of), so you need to treat these spaces properly. I tried to convey it in a way that didn’t take away from the story, but now you know the basics of what someone like Amelia would do to enter a confined space. I hope you enjoyed it.
See you next week!
Joe
© 2025 E.M. di V. - writing as Morgan A. Drake & Joe Gillis. All rights reserved.« Previous | Next »