Library.

Simple, elegant and handwritten. A single word on a charred piece of parchment, from a place that I had locked away deep within my mind. A letter alone wasn't enough to pull me from home in Maine and fly the eight hours to Washington—the small golden key that accompanied the strange letter, however...

"Miss Gates? You said Freywood Manor, correct?" the taxi driver asked with a slight waver in his voice.

"Yes. You heard correctly. Freywood Manor please." Shifting in my seat, my stomach twisted into knots. "I have a code to unlock the front gate. I'm not some tourist looking for a thrill."

The taxi driver relaxed, nodded, "understood Ma'am," and continued the drive in silence. I understood the hesitation. The manor was all but abandoned. Only the executor and groundskeeper set foot on the property. Freywood Manor. I shook my head and fiddled with the delicate key.

I hadn't seen the old estate in 14 years, hadn't even thought about it in seven, not since I inherited it at 18 years old. Didn't want it then, tried to fight against it, but as the last surviving member of the Gates family my fate was tied to the manor with a bunch of red tape.

Now, with my masters in hand, I wasn't sure what to do with it. My feelings towards the estate only grew more complicated with age. 160 years old and well preserved, the estate would be any historian's dream. Though my interest leaned more towards books than buildings. It was a suitable home. You'd think I'd have a clearer picture of what I wanted at 25. Maybe once I see it again, I'll know.

We turned onto the familiar drive up into the mountains. Snowy evergreens swayed in the winter wind. Memories flashed across the foggy car window like fragments of a forgotten dream. Painted with childlike innocence and reminiscent of a time before my life's upheaval. A smile played on my lips as I remembered the warm summers running through the trees surrounding the property and spending cold winters in Father's library. It had been a simpler time.

We stopped outside the gate and a lump formed in my throat. The pointed, twisting iron looked so much taller last time I passed through it. The two-story colonial estate sat at the end of a circular drive. A mix of gray and white it blended into the winter sky. Snow covered every ledge and surface. Barren topiaries, like skeletal sentries, scattered around the property.

It took a moment to unlock the cold, heavy padlock and punch in the code. The rusty hinges groaned in protest as the frozen gate swung open, a haunting echo that reverberated through the stillness of the winter night. My arms tightened around me as a biting wind cut through my coat.

"Do you need help getting your bags inside?" the driver asked.

"Ah no thank you, I should be fine." I replied. My eyes glued to the black front door. A warm dim light emanated from inside.

"Here you are. Be careful. They say the place is haunted." He grumbled as the wind picked up and my stomach sank.

Why would he say that? It didn't look any different, and I wasn't sure what I expected. But haunted? The palpable sense of foreboding that hung in the air, casting a shadow over the entire estate, had always been there... ever since that night.

A low rumble thundered above and my throat tightened.

That night. A shiver ran down my spine and like a snake, the memory coiled around my mind. My mouth ran dry, blinding red and blue lights flashed and the shrill scream of my mother echoed inside my head. I could still recall the feeling of the paramedics' hands as they examined me before rushing to the hospital. Could still hear my grandmother screaming at her daughter for what she did to me and my mother's vacant stare as her mind broke. I shook myself from the memory's ice-like grip. A deep breath stilling the tremble in my hands.

I can do this! I need to do this! A dark foyer greeted me. The glow seen from outside came from further in, and I could hear the faint rumble of music. My jaw clenched.

With a flick of a switch, the silver chandelier illuminated the vaulted foyer. I set my bags aside and shoved off the heavy winter gear. Grateful to be out of the cold. Though what awaited me within the manor might just set me ablaze. If my assumptions were right, someone would be in serious trouble. I prayed they were wrong. It hurt to think she would betray me like this.

The light wooden floors creaked under my feet as I stalked closer to the commotion. My hands glided along the elegant white wainscoting that ran throughout the interior. As I drew closer, the ballroom came alive with a medley of voices, creating a vibrant atmosphere that was amplified by the booming music. My blood boiled.

The ballroom doors opened and a noxious haze of alcohol, sweat, and skunk engulfed me. Churning my stomach. About 50 people filled the room dancing to the beat of Happy. Thick smoke clung to the ceiling. Alcohol and food littered every surface, from the ornate fireplace to the furniture covered with sheets, which the partygoers had pushed to the side of the room.

My sister was in the middle, dancing on top of a table with two guys grinding against her. I saw red. Pushing through the crowd, I found the stereo and yanked the plug from the wall. The music cut and everyone stopped. Confusion fluttered throughout the crowd and when my sister met my eyes, her face paled.

A loud, piercing whistle slipped from my lips and fingers, drawing the room's attention. "You all have 20 minutes to gather your belongings and friends and leave! Before I call the cops and report you all for trespassing!" I yelled as loudly as I could. Chaos ensued, and the crowd quickly dispersed, tripping over trash and slipping on spills. I kept my eyes locked on my sister, who stumbled off the table and tried to sneak out with the rest. As she attempted to slip past the doors, I quickly reached out and caught her arm.

"Oh, no you don't. Emily." I said, as cold and sharp as the icicles hanging from the spandrels outside. Her long black hair was a tangled mess, her makeup smeared and her hazel eyes blown wide. She reeked of alcohol and weed.

Emily gave me a sleepy smile. "Amelia! I didn't know you were coming!"

My anger boiled beneath its tight lid. "That much is clear. What are you doing? What were you thinking!?" I seethed.

"That this ball-hic-room was begging to be used!" She slurred her words and giggled. "It's not like you were going to use it."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Emily, when you called me and begged me to let you stay here, I trusted you to respect this place! My father's home that's been in his family since its construction! Not to use it as a venue for drunken escapades!"

Emily's giggle faded, replaced by a frown as she pulled her arm free and her eyes turned glassy. "Your father..." she muttered. "Your father left you this grand estate, a ton of wealth, a prestigious name and you don't even want it!"

My jaw tightened. "That's not true." I said, crossing my arms.

"Then why aren't you living here?" Her words slurred again as she tried to jab my chest. Instead, she stumbled into me and I caught her shoulders. Her body felt so fragile, a stark contrast to her bravado. Emily continued, her voice breaking. "He loved you so much. This house is filled with memories, pictures... Even Mother reminisces fondly when her memory bubbles out of the dark pit that is her mind... My father didn't even want to put his name on the birth certificate."

Her words drove the air from my lungs as if she had punched me in the gut. "Emily... you—"

She shook her head, smacked my arms away, and cut me off. "I know... What mother did. I was there. Through all of it."

Ice filled my veins. "You don't understand. I couldn't—"

Anger distorted her face as she took a step back, swaying slightly. "You didn't even stay in town! The moment you turned 18, you literally moved across the country! As far as you could get without a passport! You left grandma, you left mom, you left me!"

My chest tightened and all the anger fizzled out of me as tears streaked down my sister's face. I reached out, her name on my lips, but the chasm between us stretched too far. She turned away from me.

"Don't..." her voice was as cold as mine had been. "Don't act like you care." she stormed off, shoving the doors open with such force they banged against the wall. I watched as she disappeared down the darkened hall and sank to my knees. My heart heavy as stone in my stomach.

"Emily..." 

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