a voice whispers at my ear.
I twist, phone rising like a sword, and she’s less than five feet away, a feminine figure nearly lost in shadow. Her arms are wrapped around her chest, shoulders hunched, head down. She wears a dress that seems completely unsuitable for the environment—a blue gown with flounces and ribbons and crinolines. I can make out just enough of her face to know she’s younger than me.
“The path,” she whispers, as if she can barely find the words. “I can’t find the path, and I’m so cold, and it’s so dark.”
I open my mouth to answer when I see she isn’t looking at me. Her words are for herself, panic whispered under her breath.
“The path is here,” I say, and I point, but she just keeps whispering to herself. I step toward her. I can see her better now, light hair and wide eyes, her figure small and pale and terrified.
I reach out, and my hand passes through her, my fingers chilling.
“The path,” she whispers. “Should never have left the path.”
I remember what Del said about women disappearing in the moors. This is no victim of foul play, just a woman who ventured into the moors and got lost. Now, she’s close to safety, but the manor house must be dark, and she can’t see it.
I hope she did see it. I hope she took those last hundred steps to safety.
I know better. Her ghost wouldn’t be here if she’d found safety.
The house is close, though. Even if she collapsed here, someone should have found her. Someone—
“Oh!” she says, her head jerking up. I see her face then, a smile of relief crossing her features. “Hello! I was walking, and I lost my way.”
She jogs my way, and I pause, wondering whether she finally sees me. She stops short, staring right at me.
No, staring at something behind me, her gaze fixed just off to my left.
“You!” she says. “You—”
Her hands fly to her mouth, and her eyes widen in disbelief. She lets out a muffled cry and then a shriek as she runs back into the moors.
I wheel. No one’s behind me.
When I turn back, the woman is gone, the moors silent again. I stand there, frozen. Then I run for the house. I can see it ahead, the windows alight. Three more steps and—
A figure steps from behind the garage. I stop short. The garage is a good hundred feet away, but someone’s there. It’s a man with something gripped in both hands.
I douse my light fast. Then he pauses, his gaze scanning the moors, as if he spotted me.
Clouds cover the moon, but I can tell it’s definitely a man. He clutches a sharp spade in front of his chest like a weapon. He’s dressed in a sturdy wool shirt, trousers and an overcoat, and I need only to see the cut and the style and the materials to recognize clothing from a bygone time.
Another figure from the past.
Another ghost.
I shrink back. The man strides out, gripping the spade tight. Then he looks up at the house. I follow his gaze.
There’s someone in the window.
It’s the woman in black, that shimmering dark veil fluttering around her in the breeze through the open window.
I wrench my gaze back down to the man.
He’s gone.
I look up at the woman. She’s still there, illuminated by light, watching me. It’s a wavering light, soft and unfocused and shifting the shadows around her. Then one arm reaches to her side, and the light goes out.
I can still see her shape, black on black, her veiled face fixed in my direction, her gloved fingers clutching the drapes.
Except there are no drapes in that room.
No candles, either.
I blink and look around, wondering whether I’ve somehow stepped into the past. Yet I can see the electric porch lights burning.
I glance up, and the woman releases the drape. It flutters, as if falling as she steps back, and then it’s gone. No drape and no candle and no light in that dark window.
It’s at least five minutes before I move. Five minutes of my heart hammering. Five minutes of my brain screaming for me to run, just run. Get to Del and Freya’s house as fast as I can.
The light of their cottage shines in the distance, and that’s where I should go. That’s what any sane person would do. The alternative is to walk into this house. Which is not sane. Not sane at all.
Only there’s one very good reason to go