………….

I wiped at the glass with my sleeve, expecting the letters to smear, but they didn’t. The words stayed sharp, like they were underneath the grime, etched into the pane rather than on top. The air inside the room smelled stale and sweet, like old wallpaper and something else, something familiar.

Behind me, the floorboards creaked. Not like the soft settling of an abandoned house, or the familiar groan of timber surrendering to age. It was deliberate, measured, one foot then another.

My breath hitched, fogging the glass for a second, and in that brief haze I saw the reflection, the smile. First I felt fear, but then came disbelief. How was it possible.

My hand moved to the cross that hung from my neck, warm against my skin. I closed my eyes and braced for what I knew was about to happen…