“It’s so pretty. Everything inside is what I imagined it would be. It’s perfect. Apollo said we can buy it. It has three bedrooms, so if you want to move—”
“I’m not moving in with you guys,” I interrupt. “No way. Don’t even think that’s a possibility.”
She sighs heavily on the other end of the phone but doesn’t argue any further. Instead, she says, “Thank you for remembering this house and giving the information to Apollo. It was by far the most romantic thing I could have experienced. A true Cinderella story.”
“You deserve it,” I say, and she does. My older sister has always done whatever she could for me, and it’s time for her to put herself first.
“We’re going to stay in Seattle for a couple of days while Apollo does some work for Medusa and also does what it takes to buy the house. Do you think you’ll be okay?”
I suppress the urge to groan from my bruised ribs as I sit up all the way, peering into the darkness. The furniture of the room is opulent–a four-poster bed, a vanity, and a tall armoire all dominate the room. An ornate rug spreads out across the floor, and expensive tapestries hang on the walls. Despite the luxuriousness of the room, there is something vaguely menacing about it. The shadows seem to lurk in the corners, and the objects that decorate the room appear to be watching me.
I always feel watched.
“I’ll be fine,” I reassure.
“Apollo told me that a housekeeper and cook will arrive tomorrow. He wants the house to be staffed again, so you won’t be on your own completely.”
“I really need to get back to my home,” I say. “There’s no reason for Apollo to pay to have people here just for me.”
“Ani…” I hear Daphne take a calming breath. “A few more days, okay. Then we can revisit this conversation. That’s all I ask.”
I can sit here and try to argue, but I know my sister. She’ll win. She always does.
“Fine. A few more days. But then I’m serious. I need to get home and deal with my mess of a life.”
There’s silence on the other end, which tells me that Daphne isn’t going to just agree to let me go, but I’m not going to battle this out yet. I’m going to need a plan of action to even have a chance of convincing her I’m going to be alright, and I don’t have it yet.
“It’s getting late. We’ll talk tomorrow,” she finally says. “There’s food in the kitchen and—”
“I can fend for myself,” I cut in. “But thank you. I appreciate it. Love you,” I say.
“Love you.”
When I hang up the phone, my stomach growls at the mention of food, and I decide I do indeed need to find something to eat in the kitchen downstairs. As I get out of the bed, an ominous creak echoes down the hall, and I shiver. It’s not the first time I’ve heard a creak, or a bump, or shuffle of what I swear are feet when no one is supposed to be in the manor.
Godwin ghosts are everywhere, and I have to keep telling myself that they’re harmless, even though I know living Godwins are anything but.
Throwing on a borrowed robe, and stepping out into the hallway, my heart pounds in my chest, no matter how much I’m telling myself that I’m being ridiculous. But when I hear another bang at the end of the hallway, I know it’s not just my imagination. Daphne said the housekeeper and cook don’t arrive until the morning. The house should be empty… and quiet.
Olympus Manor is old and drafty, and the darkness seems to stalk me as I move down the hallway. Still feeling as if I’m being watched, I peer into each of the empty rooms as I pass them but see nothing. I’m not sure what exactly I’m expecting to see. The Boogie Monster, a ghost, or maybe it’s just bats in the attic fluttering around that I hear.
I reach the end of the hallway where a staircase leads up to the attic. I hesitate, suddenly feeling very foolish in the darkness. This is how people in horror stories die.
I can hear the creak again, coming from the attic. Something inside of me wants to go up, but I can’t help but feel like I’m trespassing if I do.
But then again, maybe I can put my mind at ease by checking it out. It could help me know that all thoughts of monsters are simply in my head.
Taking a deep breath, I start up the stairs, my footsteps echoing in the darkness. As I reach the top, the creaking becomes louder and more insistent. I step into the attic, my heart in my throat…