# Chapter 1
"I don't even want to be here," I muttered, as I tried not to focus on my inner thoughts that were intruding on my head space, so I just got out of the car. The movers had already been here with my dad, unloading the truck.
"It's not going to be that bad, Honeybee," Mom said.
"Yeah, right," I thought, staring up at the old Victorian mansion my parents bought.
The house stood as a striking mix of grand history and recent upgrades. Its towering steep gables, dark wooden spires, and broad wraparound porch kept all of its original antique character, complete with floorboards that groaned softly underfoot. But my parents had clearly been hard at work trying to bring it into the current century. Fresh, sleek paint coated the classic trim, polished modern lanterns lit the entryway, and brand-new glass fitted the high, drafty frames. Yet, up at the very top, nestled deep in the attic, sat the original picture window—dark, massive, and untouched by any modern touch, staring down at the driveway like an unblinking eye.
"I just know there's ghosts in this house," I said to Mom.
"Don't be silly, Honeybee," Mom said.
I just rolled my eyes and headed inside to claim my space. If I had to move here, at least I could lock myself away from the world—and the attic bedroom at the very top was as far away from everyone as I could possibly get.