I found the Collins in the kitchen, talking in whispers while Mike tried to sip a tea before his shaky hands spilled it all on his shirt. Speedwell, no doubt. God knew I needed a gallon.

"Go home, guys," I said to them, feeling so overwhelmed I sounded soft. "Take the rest of the day off."

Susan turned to me like I was a serial killer covered in her mother's blood.

"You talk to them!" she cried. "You talk with the ghosts!"

Her accusatory tone took me aback. "Well, yeah. Hard to overlook them, being so many all over the place."

"You're evil like them!"

A chair was roughly knocked down behind me. I didn't even glance at it.

"They're not evil, Susan. Please go home."

Mike grabbed his wife's hand and pretty much dragged her out the backdoor, that slammed shut behind them.

"Thanks," I murmured, grabbing my car keys yet again. "I'm going to town for lunch. I can use the fresh air."

The only waitress at the diner was a nice lady that welcomed me with a smile and didn't ask any nosy questions. I decided to go full carbos and cholesterol, and ordered a nasty burger with everything in it, French fries and soda.

I needed a lawyer, but I knew none, neither did my friends. Lucky them, they'd never needed one. There had to be at least a couple in town, right? Just about to ask the nice lady when she came carrying my lunch in a stuffed tray, I changed my mind and did a little online search instead. I had no doubt the whole town would know in one day tops if I paid a visit to a local lawyer, but if I asked about one, word would get out even before I left the diner.

I found there were ten in Hardwick. Ten! In a three-thousand-soul town? Whatever. Only one woman. I followed my gut and called her. I was back home soon, feeling hopeful after my little chat with Mrs. Arbosky.

A few hours later, nightfall made my belly twist, expecting to hear the thuds again now it was dark. Cooking dinner all alone in the kitchen, with my back to the basement door, was no fun. But nothing happened. That night I was able to get a good sleep, and the next day in the afternoon, I drove to town again to meet with Mrs. Arbosky.

She went over the documents I'd signed with Jenkins and pointed out some interesting clauses that could work for me in the current situation. We agreed we'd stay in touch and I headed back to the Manor, thinking about the best way to deal with the cunning city lawyer.

"I have a plan," I said the moment I set foot in the east parlor. "Who's up for a walk to the Quabbin?" The twins' footsteps rattled past me toward the front door.

"Before sunset," said the app from my phone. I needed more tablets.

"Don't worry, Lizzie. We'll be back in a little while."

On the way to the Quabbin, I dialed Jenkins. He sounded truly surprised when I asked him to email me whatever Miss Blotter had signed with the Haunters production.

"There's no need, Miss Garner. It's my job to handle anything Miss Blotter might have left unresolved."

Something smells funny in Denmark?

"But she made me legal keeper of the Manor, am I right? So anything related to the Manor now concerns me, not you."

"Well, yes, but—"

"After moving here, I've become aware that this TV show caused serious damage to the Manor."

"What do you mean? I've never heard any of it."

"Trust me, they did. The mess they left behind after their second investigation was the only reason why the tenant left shortly after. Miss Blotter was forced to come back and stay here for weeks. It took her a great deal of time and effort to fix what they did. Surely that's why she tried to rescind the agreement."

"And how would you know? Three months ago, you didn't even know the Manor existed."

"It's a small town, Mr. Jenkins. Small towns have a long memory and even longer tongues. Please, email me the documents. I won't authorize the shoot until I read them."

"Miss Blotter already left a signed contract."

"Yes. But she isn't around anymore, is she. Meaning it's not on me to make any reimbursement if I refuse to let them into the Manor, but on the family estate you represent. I'll be waiting for your email, Mr. Jenkins."

I disconnected a few steps away from the water and breathed deep, enjoying the gorgeous view, now that the trees showed the first hints of red. But the sun was already low on the horizon, and the temperature was dropping.

"C'mon, twins. Lizzie doesn't want you out late," I said, starting the short trail back to the house.

I heard their light footsteps by my side. Odd, they usually ran way ahead of me.

"He's in their pocket," I said.

"Yeah," my phone replied.

"Suits. You can never trust them."

"Never."

"Ha! Somebody just recalled they were once grownups and had to deal with them lawyers."

"Shush."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I totally get why you chose to stay around as children. Especially with such an awesome family."

That evening, I wasn't so afraid to be cooking alone in the kitchen. However, the TTS from the tablet on the table gave me a nice start. It was already past dinner time for the Blotters, and they usually didn't interact with me at night.

"Have a minute? It's Joseph."

I turned around, still trying to swallow my heart back, and nodded with a tight smile.

"Sure."

I kept cooking, hearing the soft beeps from the touchscreen as he typed the words. It was so outlandish, I didn't bother to worry about my mental health anymore. It was what it was. He needed five long minutes to type before tapping the speaker icon.

"Edward is downstairs. The demon is awake, but it seems too weak to try anything. We suspect that's why it's still there."

It was really great, hearing full sentences, even if it wasn't that easy for them, at least not yet. I turned the burner off and served my dinner, thoughtful.

"Yeah, it makes perfect sense. I can't see any other reason why it would've stayed." I brought my food to the table and sat down to eat. "Do you think it's dangerous?"

"It's a demon."

"I know, but if it's so weak it can't leave or even bang on the walls like the other night, maybe it isn't so dangerous."

The touchpad beeped while I ate in silence.

"What do you have in mind?"

"I need to face it myself, even if it's not completely safe."

"You can't go alone."

"And who would I take with me? Mike? Susan?"

"Momma is here." That was what all of them called Ann Marie.

"Please, have a sit, Ann."

"Thank you."

"I'm Edward. I'll go with you."

"Isn't it more dangerous for you guys? I mean, being in the same spiritual plane or whatever."

Considering they were at least three, I disconnected my phone and turned the speaking app on, so they didn't have to use the same device. I left it on the other side of the table.

"I'll be fine."

That was the speaking app on the tablet. Meaning they could use both at the same time. Good to know. They told me Joseph and Edward shared the tablet, Joseph using TTS and Edward with the speaking app, while Ann was using my phone. Finally, a true conversation!

"If you say so," I said to Edward. "I wouldn't wanna do this alone, so I'm happy you can join me. But I have conditions."

"Conditions?" Ann repeated.

"Edward won't take any risks for me. And he won't stop me if I decide to make contact with this thing."

The three apps shot objections at the same time, but my phone ringing interrupted our conversation.

"Excuse me, Ann," I said, grabbing it. Blocked number? I was expecting an email from Jenkins, not another call, especially not this late.

"Miss Garner?" asked a deep voice when I picked up.

"Yes, who is this?"

"I work with the production of the TV show Haunters. Mr. Jenkins—"

"It's Price," the phone app said, cutting the man off.

"Excuse me?" he said, taken aback.

"May I ask your name, sir?" I asked, silk and honey. Could it be that I was on the phone with Brandon Price the man? The voice certainly sounded like him.

"I'm a producer with—"

"It's Price."

"Come again?"

"Your name, sir, or I'm disconnecting."

The man huffed and replied curtly, "Brandon Price."

Wow! It was actually him! Looked like Jenkins had wasted no time to snitch on me.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Price. How can I help you?"

"Mr. Jenkins contacted us to let us know you may not honor the agreement we made years ago with the late Miss Blotter, about shooting this fall at the Manor. Is that correct?" He sounded irritated and patronizing like I would've expected.

"Yes. What I didn't mention to him was what you left here five years ago, Mr. Price. It woke up just by hearing your voice on the TV, so I can't tell what would happen if you came. I don't want you to cause any more harm to the Manor."

"Beg your pardon?"

Yeah, pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. "The dark entity you locked up in my basement, Mr. Price."

"What are you talking about, young lady?" That was positively patronizing. And rude.

"The demon you got rid of here back in 2018, using a pendant and some funky prayer. Should I send you the video of the shadow leaving your body in my basement? Are you aware of the trouble you caused Miss Blotter?"

The thick silence at the other end of the line was deafening.

"Look, I'm but an ordinary girl, living all alone in the Manor. I just found out about it and—" A thud made the floor vibrate under my feet. I looked around like I could see the Blotters. "Was that—?"

"It's his voice."

For some reason that escaped me, they were using only the phone app, like they wanted Price to hear them.

"What was that, Miss Garner?"

"A minute, please," I said to him. "His voice?" A chill ran down my spine. "You mean it can hear him talking on the phone?"

"Looks like."

"Oh, shit! Sorry, Ann."

"Miss Garner? Who else is on the call with us?"

Another thud made me shiver.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Price, but looks like the mere sound of your voice has stirred that thing up again. Goodnight."

"What? Wait!"

I disconnected, my heart pounding, and dropped the phone on the table like it had burned my hand. A dense silence filled the whole house, like even the Blotters were holding their ghostly breath. Three whole minutes went by, with each and every one of their 180 seconds. Nothing happened.

My phone ringing on the table gave me such a start, I jumped from my seat. Blocked number. I rejected the call. I didn't know why he was calling again and I didn't care.

"What the heck just happened?" I whispered, like it was my voice that made the thing downstairs react.

My phone rang again. I let the call skip to voicemail.

"No idea," said Edward. "Let me go see."

"Please be careful!"

After I ignored the third call, my phone buzzed with an incoming text. The number wasn't blocked and it was a California area code.

"It's Brandon Price. What happened? Call me."

I didn't reply, still on edge, all my attention on any noise or vibration.

"I thought it was too weak to do anything," I said, still speaking in whispers.

"It's Price," said Ann.

"His voice must give it energy," Joseph added.

Another text startled me. "Answer me."

Jeez! Somebody wasn't used to be overlooked, no matter the situation. Pretty sure he would've survived the Titanic by throwing people overboard in order to get on a boat.

"We can't go on like this. I'm going to the basement first thing tomorrow. I don't know what I can do, but we need to figure this out."

The third text pulled a grumpy chuckle out of my mouth. "What's going on!?"

"Maybe he knows something?" said Joseph.

"You're right!"

"Call him," said Ann. "Outside."

"Yes, ma'am."

I was grabbing my phone when I got yet another text. "Call me."

"Jeez, this man," I murmured, giggling.

"Rude and arrogant," said Ann.

"Tell me about it. Please, let me know if that thing can hear his voice from outside."

I walked out the backdoor and headed to the end of the garden on the guesthouse side, so the Collins wouldn't see me. Only when I reached the trail to the Quabbin I dialed the infamous Haunter.

"Finally!" was his greeting, such a charmer. "Why did you hang up on me?"

"Sorry, but we started hearing loud thuds from the basement and—"

"We?" He cut me off, the rude thing. "Didn't you say you're living alone at the Manor?"

"Yeah, well, not quite. Remember your first visit? The apparition upstairs?"

"Oh, yeah, in the master bedroom."

"Well, that was Ann Marie, wife of Joseph Blotter, the man who built the Manor back in 1870."

"And how could you possibly know who I saw?"

"Because she told me. You stormed into her bedroom without even knocking." I took advantage of his baffled silence. "You see, I'm the only living resident of the Manor as of now, but not the only person, if you get what I mean. I share it with some deceased members of the Blotter family."

He chuckled, amused. "I see. Now you're gonna tell me all the ghost stories about the place are real."

Funny thing to say for a man who had made a fortune out of hunting ghosts.

"I know nothing about those stories, but I do know who I'm living with. The electronic voice, cutting us off, is an app that works like your Ovilus. That was Ann Marie, too. First to let me know it was you on the phone, then telling me your voice had woken up the thing in the basement again."

Now he laughed out loud. "You have some imagination— Francesca, right? Italian descent?"

Whoa! On first-name basis already? Whatever. Like I cared. "No, Mom's favorite movie was Bridges of Madison County. But please, call me Fran."

"Fran, okay. That's some claim to make."

"Wish I could invite you over to see for yourself. But before you come anyway near the Manor, the Blotters and I need to figure out a way to get rid of that thing."

"Right, you and your ghostly roommates."

"Yes, Mr. Price, the Blotters. Can you tell me anything about this shadow? Is it really a demon?"

He took a moment to reply, and he didn't sound patronizing anymore. I could tell he was being honest now, or at least trying.

"I never found out. I only got to know it isn't human, and somebody told me it's ancient."

"D'you know where you picked it up?"

"I'm not sure. My best guess back then was that it attached itself to me at the Eastern State Pen."

"Oh, the old prison in Philadelphia? Well, that place is bound to host some nasty things."

"You've been there? Took the ghost tour?"

"Nah. I'm not into anything paranormal."

He laughed heartedly.

"Hey!" I protested. "I didn't choose any of this! I just happened to move in here and found the former owners hadn't moved out!"

"I see!" He controlled his laughter. "Sorry, I believe you. God knows these things do happen."

"Don't say. I need to ask you another question."

"You're demanding, Miss Garner."

"That's on you, Mr. Price. What do these shadows do during the day? D'you think it's dangerous for me to go down to the basement, let's say at noon?"

"What? Why would you wanna go down there?"

"I don't know. I just feel I have to. It's my home and I wanna see what I'm up against. Maybe I can reach out to it, and communicate like I do with the Blotters."

"You're crazy, young lady. You should let a pro take care of it."

"Really? That's your pro advice? After you left that thing here?"

"I didn't intend for it to stay there! I just wanted to get rid of it."

"Yeah, and you did alright. So? Daylight? Can it protect me?"

He took another moment to reply, "So they say. I can't remember if there's any windows in your basement."

"I think so. Haven't been there yet."

"Okay, if it has windows, go down when sunlight is coming in and keep to where it falls. Stay away from the dark corners. If there's no windows, maybe an LED light would work. If birds mistake it for daylight, chances are they can trick entities too. However, you shouldn't go there. You should find somebody to cleanse the place."

"Miss Blotter already tried. A cleansing and a blessing. They were barely able to put that thing to sleep."

"D'you know if anybody heard it like tonight before you moved in?"

"The Blotters said it remained asleep and unnoticed. That is, until I had the bright idea of watching a clip of your show last night."

"Really?"

"D'you think I'm freezing my butt out here in the garden to pull a prank on you?"

"Okay, okay, you have some temper, young lady."

"Sorry. Everything about this is really upsetting."

"Tell you what. Let me call the psychic that helped me back then and try to find out more about this entity."

"That would be great, Mr. Price!"

"Give me a couple of days." Oh, no it's Brandon. It's fine to call me Fran, but I have to address you properly. "Don't go to the basement until I call you." He noticed my hesitation. "Promise me."

I huffed, rolling my eyes. "Okay, okay."

"Good girl." There he was, patronizing me again! "I'll text you before calling, is that okay?"

"Sure." I paused to process the last part of our conversation. "Thank you. I never expected you would offer me your help. Thank you so much."

He chuckled softly. "It's the least I can do, don't you think?"

"Yeah, well."

"Goodnight, then, Fran. We're staying in touch. And don't do anything foolish."

"Like going to haunted places? Thanks again, Mr. Price. Goodnight."

I disconnected, still chuckling under my breath and shaking my head. The man had an ego the size of the Manor, but he could be nice when he wanted to. And I really appreciated his offer. Yeah, he'd said it: it was the least he could do after leaving such a mess, but it was nice of him anyway. After all, I'd seen the fear in his eyes, back at the Manor's basement.