My fingers hesitated over the keyboard. Outside, the rain seemed to pause.
I wasn't here for ghosts.
The front door swung open at a touch. Inside, the air tasted of mildew and forgotten time. Sheet-draped furniture stood like mourners in a parlor. I found the study on the second floor, at the end of a hallway where the wallpaper peeled away in long, anxious strips. karupspc