Lena Carter had stopped believing in ghosts a long time ago.
At least, that's what she told herself every night when the house whispered to her.
It started after Emily died.
Lena sat alone in her dimly lit bedroom, the glow of her laptop screen casting eerie shadows on the walls. Rain tapped against the window, a steady rhythm that should have been comforting. But she couldn't shake the feeling—that crawling sensation along the back of her neck, the weight of unseen eyes in the darkness.
She knew this fear. She had lived with it for months.
Ever since they found Emily's body—her best friend, her other half—dumped in the woods behind Ridgeway High. The police called it a brutal, senseless killing. A random act of violence.
Lena didn't believe that.
The memories of that night were a blur, a puzzle with missing pieces. She had been with Emily. She remembered that much. But what happened after?
Her therapist called it trauma-induced amnesia.
Lena called it a nightmare she couldn't wake up from.
A floorboard creaked in the hallway.
Lena's breath hitched. She froze, her fingers still hovering over her keyboard. She had triple-checked the locks before going to bed. She was alone.
Wasn't she?
She turned her head slowly, her heart pounding. The hallway outside her room stretched into darkness, the air thick, heavy.
Another creak. Closer this time.
She swallowed hard. It was just the house settling. Just the wind.
But then came the whisper.
A soft, breathy sound, impossibly close—right by her ear.
"Lena."
She whipped around. Nothing.
The lamp on her nightstand flickered. Her reflection in the mirror across the room didn't move with her.
A chill crawled up her spine.
She wasn't alone.
Not anymore.
End of Chapter One