I felt a chill run down my spine. The necklace matched one I had seen in an old photograph on the mantelpiece, a picture of Daniel’s late wife that had always seemed distant, a smile that never quite reached her eyes.
My hand trembled as I reached for the necklace, the metal cold against my skin. A sudden noise
made me startle—a creak from the stairs above, the sound of someone moving in the house.
“We should go back up,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.
Grace nodded, but before we could turn, a faint voice echoed from the hallway, a low hum that seemed to vibrate the very air.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” the voice said, a whisper that seemed to come from the walls themselves.
I turned, heart pounding, to see Daniel standing in the doorway, his face a mask of shock and something else—something I
