We woke up early the next morning. Brandon couldn’t have breakfast before surgery, but we were both too anxious to even feel any hunger. Cake arrived as we were coming down to the first floor, looking rested and ten years younger than the night before. On the way to the hospital, I took advantage of being alone in the backseat of the car to send a few texts. To Amy, to let her know I’d gotten to LA fine and everything was peachy. To Isaac, to let him know I was already in town, going with Brandon to the hospital, and I’d text him how the surgery had gone as soon as I found out. And finally to Harry, to ask him to remind Hugo to send all his light and all his angels to come lend a hand.
“Who are you texting to?” asked the control freak from the passenger’s seat.
“The press, obviously. Your NY Barbie and her gossiping friends will be waiting for us at the hospital.”
He turned in his seat, frowning at me from behind h
I jumped to my feet when I heard Brandon move. His fingers flickered slightly and I covered his hand with mine, my heart hammering my chest. His head tilted a little toward me and his lips parted.“Hey,” I whispered. “Easy there.”He tried to speak and frowned.“It’s okay, Bran. The surgery worked alright.”He frowned deeper, trying to press my fingers. I took his hand to my lips to kiss it.“It worked, Bran,” I repeated, just in case. “You’re gonna be fine.”His shaky sigh told me he’d understood. His other hand came slowly up to brush the dressing covering his eyes.“That’s gonna stay there for a few days.”“Did it?” he mumbled, as his fingers explored the dressing further.“Yes, love. It worked. If we do what the doctor says, you’re gonna be fine in a few months. Maybe even better than before the inf
Against all odds, Brandon was the easiest, most complying patient in history. I think the scare of almost losing all his sight gave a whole new meaning to this opportunity to restore his eyes to full health. He never complained about the awful cream he had to apply directly on his eyeballs, he never missed drops or meds time, he slept on his belly, and kept his eye shields on around the clock.The first week was the hardest, of course, while he still wore the dressings. However, his determination to walk the line, no matter how hard, annoying or frustrating, helped us find our way around it faster than I’d ever expected. Just like the doctor had said, Brandon had been so stressed up over the last two or three weeks, he was plain exhausted, so he slept a lot over the first three days.My hovering tendencies kept me always within a few steps from wherever he was. At first, I thought he would soon get sick and tired of my relentless watch over him, but it was actual
The traveling crews came back to Los Angeles for the holidays a couple of days later, and Brandon decided he felt brave enough to host a dinner for all of them at one of the restaurants they used to go to.It would be like his big comeback to society, leaving behind almost four months of reclusion and darkness. And to mark the occasion, he warned me that Cake had leaked the date and place to a few reporters.“Meaning my friends will be there?”“Guess so. The problem is that ban on you. I don’t want them to leave you out of the report. The other way around: I want everybody to know we’re together.”I looked up at him with a heartfelt sigh. But like it always happened over the last week, meeting his eyes focused on mine made me so happy, I couldn’t refuse. So I called Greta Arbosky, who said she would take care of letting them know about this one exception. I disconnected and faced him, raising my eyebrows.&
A QUICK NOTE BEFORE GETTING THE STORY STARTED: Hey there everybody! Wanna know how this story goes? Well, picture Little Women's Jo March meets Ghost Adventures' Zak Bagans about her haunted house, and then she writes a novel about it. Don't know who the heck I'm talking about? Well, lets say this is the story of a young, independent girl used to dealing with things by herself, who is forced to turn for help to a not-so-young, far-from-humble TV celeb used to having always his way. It's a clash of titans turned love story. A challenge for both of them to learn to give in, to understand, to grow, in order to be together. To meet halfway. Far from a horror thriller, it's more of a coming-of-age journey, with a lot of paranormal stuff thrown in the mix as a catalist to push the plot forward... or twist it? You be the judge of that. DUE WARNINGS: * I'm not one for hasty starts. This is a rollercoaster you gotta climb up before you can dive in head-on. Blame it on an acquired taste
Book 1 The Shadow of the Haunter In the darkness of the nightWaiting for the light to comeWhen the demons in your mindRemind you of the damage done. Always talking, so much to sayLike a haunting ghost from the graveAnd Heaven seems so far away. —Daughtry, Changes Are Coming * * Sometimes, things have a funny way to happen before you can even realize what on earth is going on. Hi, I’m exhibit A. I was twenty-five back in the summer of 2023. I was living in Boston and I’d been waiting tables twelve hours a day for six months already, while trying in vain to find a job that would allow me to make ends meet. I couldn’t afford a rent all by myself, so I shared a tiny apartment in Jamaica Plains with two friends. And by the end of June, ruthless math said that such as I was, my dwindling savings wouldn’t last the summer. That was when the diner manager put on his sad face and told me they had to let me go. Great! Now what? I was wandering around, trying to clear my head and c
The footsteps sounded like somebody was walking down the second-floor hallway to the stairs, then down to the first floor and away toward one of the parlors.I held my breath, frozen in fear, my heart pounding like a drum. Until I recalled where I was: a wooden house in the middle of nowhere. It was the building settling, not a break-in. I rolled over and went back to sleep.It took me a couple of days to get bored of wandering up and down the Manor, exploring every room, studying every painting and every portrait of the Blotters, roaming the garden and the woods down to the Quabbin. It felt like I never had enough of gazing around and breathing deep, to fill my lungs with that pristine air that smelled of trees.The Manor had its particular smell, too. It smelled old, for sure, but it also smelled like home. At least, somebody’s home. I didn’t know why, but I felt welcomed and relaxed there.Monday through Saturday, Susan and Mike came every morning about nine and moved like stealth
One morning, I went out for a walk earlier than usual, not feeling like being around while Susan and Mike were at the Manor. Don’t ask me why, the moment I got to the Quabbin, I didn’t feel like sitting to listen to some music and just stare into nothingness, like I used to. I felt I needed to learn more about communicating with ghosts and all that, so I decided to watch some of what Trisha had called the pros.I’d noticed that YouTube ghost hunters talked a lot about one Brandon Price, leader of a team called Haunters, like he was the grandfather of paranormal investigation, even over the Warrens and Hans Holzer. A quick search taught me that even though Haunters hadn’t been among the pioneers of that particular TV niche, they already had nine seasons and counting. And they were considered the best of the best.Before subscribing to the streaming platform that hosted all their seasons, I searched for anything about them on YouTube. Didn’t find any episode for free, but I did find a t
Susan and Mike didn’t say a word when they found small motion-activated cat balls in every single room, from the first-floor foyer to the third-floor study. I ignored the look they traded and offered no explanation.After a whole month of living in Blotter Manor, I’d learned that even though the Blotters had their own parallel timeline, the space coordinates remained the same. The cat balls helped me keep from disturbing their routines, like walking into the east parlor while Lizzie was home-schooling the twins, or disturbing Joseph or Edward when they were reading in the library. This way, they only needed to move a hand near any of the balls to trigger the lights and let me know I was intruding in some way. At the same time, they used them to let me know if one of them joined me in a given room. Then the app would tell me who it was.It was nice, getting together with them before dinner. By the end of August, I was almost getting used to the TV turning on by itself, whenever the twi