“Who could? Every time she closed her eyes for a second, she imagined the shadow trying to reach through the mirror, and her entire body quaked with chills. Of course a place like this had ghosts. It made perfect sense. Stonewood Abbey was at least six hundred years old. Maybe even eight hundred. It stood to reason that at some point over eight hundred years, someone had died unhappily and left a spirit behind. Of course, that didn’t mean that she had to stay here and house sit with a ghost, eit...her. She’d write Aunt Martha, tell her thanks-but-no-thanks and get the hell out of dodge. Now that the sun was peeking through the windows, however, a bit of her courage returned. She’d spent the entire evening camped out on the sofa in the foyer, utterly terrified, every light in the room switched on. Exhausted but brave with the sun at her back, Cora picked up her blankets and headed back to the room, her body stiff with fear. The door to her room was still shut from the night before. With shaking fingers, Cora turned the knob as quietly as possible, trying not to make noise.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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