Chapter 202

Ava

“Your mother lied to you, Ava; spirits are real. And it’s okay to be afraid.”

My eyes widened at the mention of my mother. “How do you know about that?” I hissed, wrenching my arm away.

Zara released her grip on my wrist, her expression inscrutable. “I saw it in my scrying glass,” she said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I know what happened to you all those years ago, when you were a scared little girl. The things you saw in the dark, the way your mother held you and promised that it was all in your head… It’s made you the skeptic you are today, hasn’t it?”

I shuddered, not even wanting to respond to that; and it seemed that Zara didn’t expect a response, either, because she turned and began busying herself with sprinkling more salt in the entryways.

Quickly slipping away from her, I shook my head as if to dispel the thoughts. The memory of that night threatened to surface, but I pushed it down, not ready to confront it. Not now. Not ever. If what I saw that night was real, then… No. I wouldn’t believe it.

Chris was waiting for me at the foot of the stairs, his brow furrowed with concern. “You okay?” he asked as we started up the creaky steps. “What did she say to you just now?”

I shook my head, not wanting him to know. “It was… nothing,” I lied. “Let’s just focus on getting this stupid task done so Betty and Fabian feel better.”

Chris gave me a bemused look, but didn’t press the matter further.

We made our way through the enormous house, the floorboards creaking as we searched. The place seemed endless, like a maze that went on for eternity. There had to have been at least forty rooms, and that was just on the second floor.

As we entered yet another dusty room, Chris cursed as he walked face-first into a particularly thick cobweb. “Ugh, gross,” he muttered, wiping his face vigorously. I couldn’t help but chuckle at his disgruntled expression, the tension from earlier momentarily forgotten.

Outside, a light rain began to patter against the windows, adding to the eerie atmosphere. The sound grew steadily louder, and I shuddered, drawing my sweater closer around my shoulders. I was grateful for Chris’s presence beside me, even if I still thought this whole ghost hunt was ridiculous.

As we searched through an old wardrobe, its hinges creaking in protest, I decided to broach the subject that had been nagging at me.

“So, this interest of yours in the paranormal... Why didn’t you ever mention it before?”

Chris shrugged, not meeting my eyes as he rifled through some old clothes. “It never really came up. And I guess I figured you would find it silly.”

I paused, considering my words carefully. “I mean, I do find the paranormal to be a bit... far-fetched,” I admitted. “But I would never judge you for your interests, Chris.”

He turned to me then, a small smile on his face. “That’s good to know. Although, it is a bit ironic, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re a believer in the Moon Goddess, but you don’t believe in ghosts. It’s an interesting line to draw.”

I frowned, feeling a little defensive. “That’s… different.”

“Different how?”

“I’ve seen, firsthand, things that prove the Moon Goddess’s existence. Like the miracle in the woods when you almost bled out, for example.”

Chris nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yes, we both saw something amazing that night. But how do you know that those things signify the existence of a goddess? And furthermore, how do you know that the things you find practical explanations for aren’t actually signs that ghosts exist?”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he continued, “For example, I could say that the moondeer curing my wounds was just dumb luck, same as how you could say that the white figure you saw in the wardrobe was just a trick of the light.”

His words hit me harder than I expected. I found myself thinking back to what happened when I was a little girl, the incident Zara had alluded to. The memory pushed at the edges of my mind, begging for my attention, but I stubbornly refused to let it surface.

“I... I don’t know,” I admitted finally. “I guess I never thought about it that way.”

Chris squeezed my hand gently. “I’m not trying to shake your beliefs or anything,” he reassured me. “But you taught me yourself how important it is to keep an open mind.”

I nodded, still lost in thought. We continued our search in comfortable silence, the rain outside growing heavier. The sound of water drumming against the roof filled the air, punctuated by the occasional rumble of distant thunder.

As we moved from room to room, I couldn’t stop marveling at the sheer size of the manor. “This place is huge,” I commented, running my finger along a dust-covered shelf. “How did Fabian’s staff keep up with all of it? I don’t think he had that many people in his employ.”

Chris shook his head. “I don’t know. Look at all this dust and cobwebs. It’s like the place has been abandoned for years, not just a few months.”

I shuddered at the thought. The idea of a house being so enormous that there were portions of it that simply went abandoned, even when the entire staff was here… It was a bit eerie. Although, if there were to be something in this house that once belonged to a woman centuries ago, it would have to be in one of these untouched rooms.

Suddenly, a bright flash of lightning illuminated the room, followed immediately by a deafening clap of thunder. The electricity flickered and died, plunging us into darkness. At that exact moment, two pitch black figures appeared in the doorway.

I screamed, instinctively jumping into Chris’s arms. My heart was racing, and I could feel Chris’s body shaking... with laughter?

He clicked on his flashlight, revealing Fabian and Betty in the doorway. Betty was clinging to Fabian just as tightly as I was to Chris. I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me, but it quickly gave way to relief and amusement.

“Nice scream, Ava,” Fabian teased, his own flashlight beam joining Chris’s. “I think you might have given the wailing woman a run for her money.”

I blushed as Chris set me back down. “Did you guys find anything?”

Betty shook her head, still looking a bit shaken. “Nothing yet. This place is huge, though. It could take all night to search every room.”

As if in response to her words, another flash of lightning lit up the room. In that brief moment of illumination, something caught my eye.

“Wait,” I said, moving toward a dusty panel in the corner. “What’s that?”

Chris directed his flashlight beam to where I was pointing. There, half-hidden behind some old books, was a small panel with hinges built into the wall. Crouching, I reached out and carefully pushed it open, coughing and waving a hand in my face as a plume of dust puffed out at me.

“Ew, Ava,” Chris grumbled. “Stay out of there. There could be rats in there.”

“No… There aren’t.” I furrowed my brow, leaning forward to get a better look at the inside of the small cubby—and that was when I saw it. A small metal box.

Reaching out, I picked it up and felt how heavy it was in my palm. I stood and turned, blowing away the thick layer of dust that covered its surface. The intricate carvings on the lid were barely visible beneath years—no, decades, or maybe even… centuries—of grime.

“Huh. That looks like a music box,” Fabian observed, peering over my shoulder.

With trembling fingers, I opened the lid. A soft, tinkling melody began to play as though it had just been waiting all this time, hauntingly beautiful in the silence of the old house.

But almost as soon as the notes began to play, a loud, mournful wail echoed down the corridors, sending chills down my spine. The cry was unmistakably human, and yet also… not. Not anymore, at least.

We all froze, staring at each other with wide eyes. The wailing continued, growing louder and more anguished with each passing second. Without thinking, I snapped the music box shut, and the crying abruptly stopped.

In the sudden silence, broken only by the sound of rain and our ragged breathing, we all seemed to come to the same realization simultaneously.

This music box had belonged to Maria; we were sure of it.