Chapter 6
Lying in bed with a pillow over her head, Aurelia knew the voices were still coming from downstairs, even if she temporarily couldn’t hear them.
She’d woken just after two in the morning to their steady prattling.
At first, she tried to convince herself that they were simply a group of social ghosts meeting for a chat.
Eventually, though, the voices became more distinct, making it harder to tune them out.
Whether the product of her own delusions or the paranormal, she decided to get up rather than pretend she could possibly ignore them.
She tossed the pillow back onto the bed and stood, pulling on the clothes she’d left on the floor a few hours earlier when she’d changed for bed.
From the top of the stairs, she could hear the voices more clearly.
She carried her phone down to the doorway, though she doubted the police would appreciate another call from her.
She felt vexed and anxious to be standing here once again, but those feelings were tempered by her memory of the night before.
Whoever they were, they hadn’t exactly seemed like the criminal element in their fancy dress.
And, despite seeing her on the mezzanine, no one had come toward her or threatened her.
Determined to investigate, she crouched to the ground and slowly opened the door into the shop.
She couldn’t see anyone, which meant they must be downstairs again.
The lights were on—but were they? Looking up, she could see the bulbs were dark, but there was light coming from somewhere.
She couldn’t get a good view of the shop floor from the doorway, so she crawled forward with her phone clutched in her hand.
As she peered through the mezzanine railing, Aurelia could see people standing about and talking to one another.
No one noticed her, giving her a chance to take it all in.
There were about ten people there, men and women.
Once again, they were wearing old-fashioned clothes, complete with cravats, full skirts, and long hemlines.
Standing together, they looked like the cast of an Austen or Dickens adaptation and didn’t seem at all concerned about the fact that they were trespassing.
Instead, they appeared to feel right at home, just as a group of ghosts might.
Her focus was drawn to a woman in a silk dress with a feather sticking out of her carefully coiffed hair.
She was speaking with a man in a black suit who had large mutton-chop whiskers.
He was pointing to a book on the Recommended Reads table and then moved his hand as if to pick it up.
Only—his hand went right through it, turning into a white mist with what looked like black dots running across it…
or were they letters? He pulled his arm back, shaking his head and chuckling as the mist reformed into his hand once again.
Aurelia couldn’t contain her gasp of surprise, which was loud enough to turn several heads in her direction. The woman in silk gave her an inquisitive smile and Aurelia, panic-stricken at being spotted, crawled backward, bumped into the doorframe, then got behind the door and quickly locked it.
Ghosts, she told herself, remembering the misty hand as though it were being projected right in front of her. Definitely ghosts.
She leaned against the door with her head thrown back and legs splayed out.
It was then that she realized she’d left her phone on the floor of the shop, near the railing.
She covered her face with her hands and then slowly lowered them.
Even if she’d had it with her, what on earth would she say to the police this time? ‘I’m calling to report a haunting’?