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I hadn’t thought I’d be able to sleep, but I did. Being in Blake’s arms helped, though every time I closed my eyes, I could see her feet dangling, and the awkward angle to her head, and how she’d opened her mouth and told me to leave.

The following morning, I sense I’m already alone. Before I’ve even got my eyes fully open, I sling my arm across the bed, searching for the man I’d been sharing it with. I find the space empty, though the sheets are still warm. Wherever Blake has gone, he hasn’t been gone long.

Despite my gritty eyelids and low lying terror, I’m determined not to let this go. I won’t let Blake bulldoze me into getting his way and pretending like everything is fine, when it’s clearly not.

I need to find out what happened here at Windridge Hall.

My body still aches pleasurably from what Blake’s sons did to me the night before. If only I hadn’t had decades scared off my life, I’d actually have said I was happy right now, but then I guess if I hadn’t seen her, I would never have run to Blake’s bed in the first place.

Things experienced during the night always feel less real in the light of day, but I know I can’t just let this go and pretend everything is fine.

I think Blake has gone downstairs already, but movement comes from the bathroom, and he appears wearing only a pair of low slung gray sweatpants.

“Morning.” He throws me a sleepy grin.

Dear lord, what is this man trying to do to me?

I shift position slightly and wince at the ache between my thighs, the soreness that both his sons left me with. The whole family seems out to torment me.

A thought jumps into my mind. Was last night’s sighting a punishment for allowing Dov and Levi to take me together? Had the ghosts been watching? I remember the sensation of the room being filled with presences right at the moment of my climax. I hadn’t given it any thought after that, putting it down to my over stimulated brain and body overthinking things, as it so often does, but now I wonder. And if it was punishment or some kind of retribution, did the guys see anything? Or even in the spirit world, do women get judged more harshly than men?

“Morning,” I reply. “Did you get any sleep? I’m sorry I woke you.”

He crosses the room toward me and sits on the edge of the bed. “Aspen, if you’re ever that scared, of anything, I always want you to wake me, okay?”

My cheeks tweak, but I can’t bring myself to smile fully. “Okay.”

The memory of seeing that poor girl hanging from the ceiling is still fresh in my mind. Who were the two men with her? Had they hung her? Or had she taken her own life? Because of what my mom did, the thought alone is incredibly triggering to me. I can’t decide what’s worse—them killing her, or her doing it at her own hand.

I sit up in bed and squeeze my hands between my knees. “I haven’t forgotten what I said. I still want to go down into the basement to find out what we can about this place. There has to be something…”

“I know. I haven’t forgotten either. I’ll come with you. But can we at least get some coffee first.”

He quirks an eyebrow at me, and I find myself relaxing a fraction.

“Coffee would be good.”

Blake comes with me while I go to my room to change and brush my teeth. I stand outside of the door, Room 113. Did something happen in my room? Is that why I’ve experienced so much in here? Or am I the one who’s haunted?

When I push open the door, I half expect to find the woman still hanging there, but the space is just as it always is. Even so, I find myself rushing, eager to be out of there again. I hate that. This was my own personal space, and now a goddamned ghost is chasing me out.

We head down into the kitchen for the much needed coffee. There’s no sign of either Dov or Levi yet. My stomach flips every time I think of what we did together last night. Will Blake be able to tell? It’s not like he can complain. He brought me here for his sons to fuck, and they most certainly did that.

The coffee is hot and strong and sweet, and I drink it sitting at the kitchen table.

Blake comes over and strokes his hand down my hair, and instinctively, I lean into his touch. “Ready to check out the basement?”

I swallow, hard. “There’s something I haven’t told you.”

“Oh?”

“You remember that day when I got my period and you found me in the basement, and I said I saw a rat?”

“Yes?” He sounds cautious, wondering what’s coming.

“Something else happened.” I fill him in on the details, the certainty that I’d felt a hand wrap around my fingers.

“Shit, I’m sorry you went through that.” He pauses and says, “Since we’re being open with each other, there’s something I’ve been experiencing, too.”