Wooden panel doors hung at an angle, and the ceiling-high mullioned windows were almost entirely covered with growth. “Look at that.” He pointed, and I saw a blooming rose, white or pink, like a nightlight in the darkness. “It must be warmer in here than outside.” “It makes me think of Beauty and the Beast,” I said, and I couldn’t help picking my way over to the rose to touch it. “A house under a long curse.” “What did it take to break it? The curse?” “The beast has to learn to love and accept love in return.” I bent my head to the rose and was pleased to discover it smelled of lemons.
