Dad and I stand in front of the biggest house I’ve seen in my life. It looks like a row of two-story houses were smooshed together, then decorated with thick Greek pillars and pearl-white shutters. The driveway alone is so large, we had to drive around an enormous patch of frog-green grass that circles a glowing fountain with a perpetually spitting dolphin in its center just to park by the front door.
I crane my neck to take it all in, eyes wide. “It looks like a giant, haunted mansion. Perfect for some summertime sleuthing.”
Review for Your Guide to Not Getting Murdered in a Quaint English Village