Madeline Harris turned to see a woman with shoulder-length blonde hair striding purposefully towards her. She wore a power suit, circa 1990, and her coiffed hair was reminiscent of one of those women from the Real Housewives franchise—with the slightly orange tinge to her skin she could easily fit in Beverly Hills. The height of her stilettoes was certainly straight out of Hollywood.
‘Yes, hello.’ Madeline smiled politely.
‘Sherry Drysdale from Drysdale Real Estate.’ She proffered her hand and Madeline shook it. Her handshake was all business, much like her suit. ‘Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.’ ‘It’s not a problem. Follow me, I’ll take you through.’ Sherry wasted no time heading into the building, which was nothing special from the outside. A nondescript red-brick boxy tower flanked by a nature strip that had seen better days. The entryway was dim and dark, and a fusty smell clung to the air. A shiver scuttled down Madeline’s spine and goose bumps formed on her bare arms. It
had been nice and sunny when she left her mother’s house earlier so she had forgone taking a jumper…