The next few days in Harper Manor were marked by a strange tension. The usual stillness of the house had taken on an eerie quality, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. No one spoke of the piano playing that had filled the halls the night before, but the servants could no longer ignore the faint, haunting melody that seemed to drift through the manor at midnight.
Charlotte had expected someone to confront her—either a fellow servant or, worse, the master of the house, Luke Harper. But no one said a word. Instead, the gossip began to spread quietly among the staff, a quiet murmur that turned into whispers whenever Charlotte passed by.
It was the housekeeper, Mrs. Granger, who first spoke to her directly about the strange events.
"Miss Campbell," she said one morning as Charlotte dusted the hallway portraits, "you've heard the stories, haven't you? Of the Harper Manor ghost?"
Charlotte glanced up in surprise, trying to maintain her composure. The housekeeper's face was as stern as ever, but there was a certain glint in her eyes.
"I… I don't know what you mean," Charlotte replied carefully, her heart pounding.
"Oh, don't act coy. Everyone knows about the piano," Mrs. Granger continued, her voice low. "Some say it's the spirit of the previous mistress of the house, still wandering, playing the keys she once loved so much. Others think it's something more sinister. But no matter what they say, I think you should know... It's not the first time it's been heard."
Charlotte swallowed hard, a knot tightening in her chest. She had thought she was the only one who knew about the piano. Her secret sanctuary was no longer hers alone.
Later that evening, Charlotte couldn't sleep. Her mind raced, thoughts of the piano swirling in her head. She had always believed that playing it was a simple escape, a way to hold onto her lost dream. But now, it seemed to have stirred something within the manor. And she could feel it—a presence that wasn't there before.
That night, as she slipped out to the hidden room once more, Charlotte felt an overwhelming sensation that she was being watched. The moonlight filtered in through the dusty window, casting long shadows across the room. But as she approached the piano, her hand shaking slightly, she found herself unable to move.
The room felt... different. Almost alive.
Then she heard a soft sound, a rustling from the far corner of the room. Her breath caught in her throat. It wasn't just the piano she'd heard.
She wasn't alone.
Charlotte froze, the soft sound from the corner of the room lingering in the air like a whisper. She turned her head slowly, her heart hammering in her chest. The room, once still and silent, now seemed to breathe with a life of its own.
The faint rustling came again, followed by a low sigh, almost too soft to hear.
"Who's there?" Charlotte's voice was barely above a whisper, cautious, as though any louder sound might disturb the delicate atmosphere.
For a long moment, there was no response, only the unsettling creak of the old wooden beams above her. Charlotte took a step back, her hand gripping the edge of the piano for support, but her curiosity pushed her forward. She couldn't just leave—not when she could feel that something was about to reveal itself.
The rustling grew louder, and then, stepping out from the shadows, came a figure she recognized all too well.
It was Madam Janice Harper.
Charlotte's breath caught in her throat. The madam looked as though she had appeared from nowhere, her pale face illuminated by the faint glow of moonlight. She wore a loose nightgown, her dark hair falling around her shoulders like a curtain. There was a softness in her gaze, and Charlotte could see the faintest trace of a smile at the corners of her lips.
"Madam Harper?" Charlotte's voice trembled, and she instinctively lowered her head in respect. "I—I didn't expect to see you here."
Janice gave a gentle nod, her expression contemplative. "I've known about this room for a long time, Charlotte," she said, her voice soft but clear. "I used to play here as well."
Charlotte blinked in surprise. "You… you played the piano?"
Janice's eyes softened, a touch of nostalgia in her gaze. "Yes. Before I married, before I became the mistress of this house, I was a pianist. I performed at a musical theatre. But life, as it often does, took a different path. Marriage, responsibilities… I had to give up that path."
Charlotte's heart stirred with empathy, understanding the weight of those unspoken regrets. "I never knew," she whispered, her voice filled with quiet reverence. "I never imagined you had such a life."
Janice stepped closer, and Charlotte, instinctively, stood straighter, her hands folded respectfully before her. "I came here tonight because I see something in you, Charlotte," Janice said, her voice still gentle, but now with a quiet urgency. "I see the same fire, the same passion that I once had. And while I may no longer be able to pursue that path, I can still help you reach it."
Charlotte's eyes widened, uncertainty creeping into her heart. "You would help me?"
Janice nodded, her smile softening. "Yes. You have the talent, the potential, and the desire. I can't play anymore, but I can guide you, teach you what I know. I want you to become the pianist I never could be. You have a chance to live out the path I had to let go of."
Charlotte stood still, absorbing the enormity of the moment. She had never once imagined that Madam Janice, the lady of the manor, would offer such a gift. "But… why?" Charlotte asked, her voice soft with genuine confusion. "Why would you offer to help me?"
Janice's gaze grew thoughtful, distant for a moment, as though recalling a time long past. "Because I see in you what I once was—a girl with a dream, a girl with the heart to pursue it. And I want to see that dream realized. I want to see you shine where I couldn't."
Charlotte lowered her gaze, a deep sense of gratitude filling her chest. "I don't know how to thank you, Madam," she said, her voice trembling with sincerity. "This means more to me than I can say."
Janice placed a gentle hand on Charlotte's shoulder, her smile now both proud and tender. "You don't need to thank me, child. Just promise me this—keep playing. Keep pursuing that dream. For both of us."
As Charlotte nodded, her heart swelling with emotion, Janice slowly began to turn, fading back into the shadows. The moonlight seemed to dim as her figure disappeared from view.
For a long moment, Charlotte stood in the quiet room, the weight of the madam's words pressing upon her. And as she looked down at the piano, the soft echoes of the music from that night filled her mind once more.