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Beckoned by curiosity, I soon find myself on the second floor, examining the walls and floors of the rooms, but I find no indication of a passage to some secret chamber entrances.

As I descend the staircase, a strange sensation across the back of my neck brings me to a halt, and I twist around, scanning the light over the main balcony that breaks off in each direction to the different hallways. And the doorless corridor slightly off center from the stairwell, its purpose completely eluding me.

Still troubled by it, I lift the lantern high enough to see it from this distance and angle. As I do so, a peculiarity seizes my attention.

Confused, I lower the light, then lift it again.

I take a step back, wondering if my eyesight is failing me, all of a sudden.

Where the corridor stood only a minute ago is a completely flat stretch of paisley wallpaper, as if it doesn’t exist. Squeezing my eyes closed and open again fails to change the scenery. I climb the stairs toward it, coming to a stop where I remember the hallway. With an uncertain hand, I reach out, and my hand swipes right through the paisley pattern. On a gasp, I jump back.

The flat surface denies all possibility of such a thing, and science, too, but when I reach out again, my hand slides right through a second time. I double blink, then relax my eyes, allowing myself to focus.

That’s when the corridor comes into view again, and a smile stretches across my face..

“I’ll be damned,” I whisper in awe. “An optical illusion.”

* * *

It’s just after nine, when I settle in for the evening and flip through my camera, whose battery is nearly dead. The first image that pops up has me frowning. It’s one of the dozen I took outside, not even an hour ago, of the crow. Only, the picture shows nothing but an empty railing.

Swiping through the remaining dozen shows more of the same.

What the hell?

Squeezing my eyes shut, I attempt a mental reboot, but when I open them again, the picture is still absent of the bird. Yet, I can still hear its caw, even now, outside.

Don’t get up, my head urges me.

Probably just the dying battery affecting the images.

From my backpack beside me, I tug the bag of sleeping pills from inside and dump four of them into my palm. Definitely not dealing with this crap tonight. Maybe once I leave this island, head out west and settle somewhere, I can get checked out for sleepwalking, or whatever these strange episodes are, where I’m certain I’ve seen something.

For now, I’m going to sleep it off and chalk it up to too many spooky articles at the library.

I reach into my bag again and pull out the folded picture of Russ’s family. Perhaps it’s slightly macabre, given Russ is dead and I’ve never met these people in my life, but I don’t care. For whatever reason, the photo brings me a sense of comfort, as if he’s here with me. Watching over me.

Staring at the smiling face of the little boy and his mother as the pills kick in, I fall into a peaceful calm.

15

Céleste

Heat radiates across my face, and I squint against the invading brightness. Lifting my arm to shield my eyes, I make a slow climb out of what must’ve been a dead sleep, as I have absolutely no recollection of any events of the night. Not even dreams.

Whispers reach my ear through the fog, and with a groan, I sit up from the sleeping bag and glance around. Bags of chips and an empty bottle of Coke lay on the ground beside me, and I lift one of them up, frowning.

I don’t remember chips. Or Coke.

“She’s awake!”

At the sound of the voice, I snap my attention toward the window in time to catch a flash of movement.

Shit.

Still groggy, I swipe up my pants and duck low, tiptoeing toward the window for a closer look and to get out of the line of view. Bits of broken wood and glass crunch below the soles of my feet, threatening to break the skin, but I step light, before pressing my back against the wall alongside the window.

Seconds later, three small crowns appear below, peeking over the window ledge. “She’s gone!” A little girl in the middle, with red curls, jumps to her feet and presses her nose to the only intact stretch of the busted window.