Page 54 of Purrfectly Haunted

“They’ll be fine!” Lana shouts. “They’re part of the house now, she’ll protect them.”

But will the house be fine? And what will happen to the cats if the hostel crumbles? What will happen to us and all the guests?

We reach the entrance hall and stop running. My feet catch in the carpet, and James steadies me with surprising strength. I’m hyperventilating from fear.

The tremor in the ground recedes, and we wait. Will the ghost come after us?

The silence hangs heavy around us.

Lana turns away from us, heaving. I immediately go to her and rub her back.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, squeezing my hand.

“Who the fuck was that?” James asks, still holding the flashlight like a weapon.

“I don’t know,” Lana says. “I always felt like something was off down there, but the ghost never showed her face until today. But I...” she trails off.

“What?”

“Lana?” calls a voice. We look up and find Shirley at the top of the grand staircase in a bathrobe and slippers. “What’s going on? Lucifer woke me.”

Lana lets out a sob, and in an instant Shirley comes running down the stairs. She loses a slipper on the way but keeps running until she smothers Lana in her embrace. My heart gives a twinge of envy. I dare a glance at James, wanting to throw myself into his arms too but he’s glaring at the hallway leading to the basement.

Don’t be stupid, I tell myself. You're just having fun in bed. Don’t expect more than what he can give you.

“It looks like the cats and the house kept the ghost in check,” James says. “But for how long?” He turns to us. “We need to figure out what to do now.”

Lana nods. “Let’s go to my office.”

As soon as the four of us step into Lana’s office, a fire comes to life in the fireplace. The house is still looking after us, which means she has won the last battle.

Lana drops on the chair behind her desk, colour finally coming back to her face, and Shirley sits on her armrest. James and I take the chairs in front of them.

“I have a theory,” Lana says, rubbing her face tiredly. “There are missing pages in the journal.”

James frowns. “I’m sorry?”

“Earl Fergus Lynch’s journal,” she gestures at the glass case by the bookshelves. “Some pages are missing, as if someone tore them. He probably did it. I always wondered why. After that, his entries got weird, as if he was losing his mind, but I always thought it was because he was sick. He died of syphilis. But do you know what was before the torn pages?” When we shake our heads, she continues. “He talked about the woman he met during a soiree who could see ghosts.”

Understanding dawns on me. “The one like me?”

“Yes. He was jealous and obsessed. She was a pretty woman with dark hair. Noble born.”

Just like our basement resident.

“You think he killed her,” James says.

My eyes widen, and I look between them.

Lana nods. “Probably poison, judging by the state of our ghost. And she’s been haunting the house ever since. He must have written it in his journal, then later tore the pages in shame of his crime.”

“Evil bastard,” Shirley mutters.

“So there's a sixth vengeful spirit in the house. Great. And we still need to deal with the lady in Red.”

Lana sigh deeply. “I’m sorry. I’ll understand if you want to quit the job. This is not what you signed up for.”

“Actually, it is.” I laugh awkwardly. “The contract we signed pretty much covers everything from dismemberment to spontaneous combustion.”