I’d already tried to talk myself out of believing I saw a ghost. But as much as I wished I’d merely been dehydrated or exhausted from the hike, I couldn’t reason away the disconcerting wobble of the railing, the ache in my shoulder, or the free-fall sensation that still spooked me to think about.
I would’ve died, hadsomeonenot pulled me back over.
And if a person had saved me, they wouldn’t have disappeared right in front of me.
So. Ghosts.
“Expert consensus suggests ghosts may be real, depending on your location and time of day…”read the AI summary above the search results.
“Fucking hell,” I mumbled. What a wonderful example of cutting-edge technology, completely worth the inevitable collapse of society.
I scrolled, hoping to find an article titled something like,“Do you consider yourself a fairly level-headed, if not boring person, except that you’re pretty sure you just saw a ghost? Click here for validation it was real before you check yourself into the nearest mental health facility.”
Because how else was I supposed to process what’d happened that afternoon? Talk about it with someone?
Absolutely not.
Instead, I found articles like“How Science Could Enlighten the Paranormal,” “Is it a Poltergeist or Are You Just Afraid of How Much an Electrician Will Cost?”and, my personal favorite,“How to Check if You Have Ghosts.”
As if they were a typical household pest.
I bookmarked that one for later.
How to know if I saw a real ghost?I tried next. The results were similarly ridiculous and uninformative.
Sighing, I shut my laptop. My wooden chair creaked when I leaned back to stretch. It was old, but sturdy, and matched the small desk pushed up against the north side of the lookout. I’d already stacked a few books along the wall, and my sketch pad lay open next to my computer.
A small nightstand sat to my right, where I kept a rechargeable lantern, followed by the full bed tucked into the corner. An ancient-looking wood-burning stove crackled in the corner to my left, and the tiny, four-burner gas range and oven hugged the opposite wall close to the door, along with several wooden shelves and storage counters.
I’d shaken out the mattress, which had thankfully been replaced, dusted, knocked down a few cobwebs, and swept before unpacking that afternoon. Overall, the lookout was in far better shape than I’d anticipated for being out of commission for so long.
Ready for bed, I stood. My heart skipped a beat when my reflection, lit up by the soft glow of the lantern and wood stove against the pitch black night, stood with me.
To my relief, it wasonlymy reflection this time.
I’d uncovered all the shutters before I locked myself inside for the evening and wiped down the glass. Now, though, I wished I’d waited until morning as I fought the urge to cover the window with a blanket so I wouldn’t feel so exposed.
Except I couldn’t hang just oneblanket, because the uncovered windows wrapped all the way around the damn tower.
Like a glowing fish bowl, my new home lit up like a beacon against nighttime dark so deep I wouldn’t be able to see my own hand in front of my face if I took two steps out the door.
Anyone—or anything—could be out there right now, and I’d have no idea. That ghost could be out there. Or a wolf, mountain lion, or even a bear.
Or whoever’s been murdering hikers and hiding their bodies so deep in the woods no one’s ever found them.
I shuddered.
In the safety of Ponderosa, a small mountain town filled with normal, unassuming people, it was easy for Dad, Leonard, and Tate Morris to spread their assurances that there was nothing to worry about. But out in the wilderness, alone in the dark, I didn’t believe those hikers were lost or missing—not when ghosts came calling and the killer could be right outside my door.
Watching.
Right. That’s enough thinking for tonight.
I strode over to the door, circling the heavy wooden table at the center of the room where the Osborne Firefinder sat, ensured the lock was engaged, and tucked myself into bed.
The temperature had dropped significantly after sunset. This high up, I’d probably need the wood burner to keep the cabin comfortable overnight for at least another week. So, I snuggled beneath the heavy down duvet plus a flannel-lined quilt and shut my eyes, ready for some much-needed sleep.
Except it stubbornly wouldn’t come.
