Chapter 153

The night air was thick with reluctance as Nathaniel and the others finally departed Lockhart Manor at Isabella's insistence.

Sophia clung to Isabella's hand, her voice trembling. "Are you absolutely certain you'll be alright here alone? This place is enormous...and the rumors about spirits..."

A soft laugh escaped Isabella's lips. "This is my home. Any ghosts here would be family - they'd never harm me."

Only after repeated assurances did they leave.

Truthfully, no specter could compare to the living nightmares Isabella had already survived.

The moment the front door closed, the mansion's temporary warmth evaporated. The musty scent of abandonment crept through the halls like an unwelcome guest.

Isabella remained unfazed.

She hummed an old lullaby as she washed dishes, her movements precise. Fresh water filled the vase where she arranged sunflowers - their golden faces a stark contrast to the decaying exterior.

Inside these walls, time had stood still for four years.

Part of her still hoped to wake and find it all a bad dream. To see her grandfather's kind eyes, hear her mother's gentle "Good morning, princess."

Night deepened.

Curled on her childhood bed, memories wrapped around her like a familiar blanket. Then - a sound shattered the silence.

From her parents' former bedroom came a woman's voice, oscillating between sobs and manic laughter. The eerie cadence raised gooseblesh on Isabella's arms.

She dismissed it as exhaustion playing tricks.

Until the voice grew louder.

"Help me...it hurts so much..."

"Come play...it's cold down here..."

Definitely not her mother's voice.

Isabella's pragmatic nature warred with primal fear. Cold sweat dotted her forehead as she yanked the covers overhead.

"Please," she whispered to the darkness, "I've done no wrong."

Abrupt silence.

Her racing heartbeat echoed in the sudden quiet. The babies stirred uncomfortably in her womb.

"Shhh," she soothed, hands cradling her belly. "Mommy's here. Nothing will hurt you."

The cramping eased.

"Pathetic," she chided herself. Living monsters had tried to break her - why fear the dead?

She threw off the covers.

A blood-curdling scream tore from her throat.

Moonlight silhouetted a floating white figure at the window - more terrifying than any horror film.

"God, please—"

Eyes squeezed shut, she recited prayers through chattering teeth. The rumors were true.

This house held more than memories.

Isabella bolted upright. She needed to leave. Now.

A chill presence materialized before her. Ghostly eyes studied her intently. Then it spoke—