Jenny Carrington’s eccentric aunt’s death was no accident.

While the police search for the killer, Jenny leaves her career, family, lifestyle, and fiancé to fulfill her promise to live in the one-hundred-old house.

Sample

Jenny’s eyes snapped open in the darkness, her senses instantly alert. An unfamiliar sound had penetrated her sleep. Confusion clouded her mind for a moment, unsure of her surroundings. But as her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she realized she was in her room at Susan’s house.

She strained her ears, hearing the eerie sound echoing once more. Jenny rose from her bed and scanned the room. The noise persisted, growing louder, originating from the hallway. Heart racing, she stood at her doorway, eyes wide and her sleep banished by a surge of adrenaline. The source of the commotion was Susan’s room.

Pushing the door open, a shiver traveled down Jenny’s spine, as if an icy breath grazed her skin. A chilling presence hung heavy in the air, unsettling her to the core. Something rattled against the wall, a pearl necklace swaying from a hook beside Susan’s bed. It wasn’t just the wind this time; there was an unmistakable force at play. But before Jenny could gather her wits, the door slammed shut behind her, causing her to jump. The wind, she reasoned, her nerves were on edge. As she listened intently, a voice, barely above a whisper, said, “Jenny.”

She tried to convince herself that it was the wind. Stepping forward, she mustered the courage to close the open window and secure the latch. Yet, when her hand grasped the doorknob, a frigid chill jolted through her, chilling her to the bone. A strange presence enveloped her, prickling her skin, and Jenny couldn’t shake the feeling that she was not alone.

Taking a deep breath, she attempted to steady herself. Should she be afraid? If the ghostly whisper belonged to Susan, then there should be nothing to fear. Jenny clutched the doorknob tightly, summoning her resolve, and she swiftly retreated to her own room. There she buried herself under the covers. To calm herself, she tried to think of the times when she slept in this room as a child. It was a safe place. “Nothing bad is going to happen,” she repeated over and over.

As she shut her eyes, she heard Susan’s voice singing a familiar lullaby.

Hush, little baby, don’t say a word. Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird…