Who Lives Here

Miranda has a surprise for her friend, Maisy

"Who lives here?" Miranda asked.

"Seriously?" Maisy scoffed, her disbelief echoing in the air. She gazed at the monstrous structure, which was off in the shadows of gray brick. It had a black roof and eerie, enormous windows.

"Old lady, Byron," the girl said, stepping back. "At least that's what she claims her name is."

Miranda looked from the house to her small friend. "What do you mean?"

"My mom says the lady is crazy, claiming to be a distant relative of Lord Byron, and she takes that ugly dog with her in a bright pink purse every time she goes to the market. It's weird."

"So she has a British accent?" Miranda asked. "Is she a poet too?"

Maisy laughed. "Honestly, I don't know."

Miranda turned back to the house and noticed a slender woman staring at them from an upstairs window. "That must be her," she whispered. "Let's go talk to her." Miranda reached for Maisy's hand and tugged her toward the mansion.

Maisy tugged, struggling to break Miranda's tight grip. "Are you crazy? I'm not going anywhere near that place."

Miranda dropped her friend's hand. "Fine, but I'm going in there." She marched forward, wondering how long Maisy would take to follow her. Would she? Her friend certainly bought into all the rumors of this place.

"Miranda, don't!" Maisy shouted, fear etched in her squeaky voice.

The front door swung open before Miranda could reach it. Lady Byron stood there, an ugly mutt perched in the crook of her arm, her gaze drifting from Miranda to Maisy and back again.

"Well, isn't this a surprise?" Lady Byron said, full British accent on display.

Before she could speak, Maisy appeared beside her.

"I figured it was time," Miranda said.

"Time?"

"Maisy, I'd like you to meet my grandmother."

WC: 300
Prompt: Write a story that includes the line: “Who lives here?”
Contest: "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge"