Chapter 4 - The Clippings of a Ghost
The yellowed newsprint crackled softly as Mark unfolded the fragile paper, the ink smudged by decades of moisture trapped inside the sealed trunk. The date at the top read precisely eighteen years ago, exactly three days after the catastrophic fire that leveled the abandoned estate across the water.
"What does it say, Daddy?" Lily’s voice suddenly echoed from the top of the stairs, startling both adults in the dim basement. She had slipped away from Clara’s grip and was peering down the wooden steps, her big blue eyes reflecting the beam of the flashlight.
"Lily, stay upstairs," Mark ordered sharply, his hands shaking so violently he almost dropped the clipping. He read the headline under his breath: Second Child Unaccounted For Following Lakeside Blaze; Search Suspended Due to Structural Instability.
"There was only one victim reported," Clara said, stepping down the stairs and stopping beside Mark to read the faded print over his shoulder. Her breath hitched in her throat. "The official report said everyone else got out safely. They said Clara... they said the little girl next door was rescued by her uncle."
"My father was her uncle," Mark whispered, the horrible realization settling into his chest like a block of ice. "He didn't rescue her, Clara. He left her locked in the nursery while the fire spread from the kitchen."
"No," Clara gasped, stepping back as if physically struck. "That is impossible. Your father was a hero in this town. He rebuilt our house on the ruins of the old neighborhood specifically to watch over the land."
"He didn't watch over it to protect us," Mark said, his voice cracking as he looked down at the bottom of the trunk. "He built this house as a monument to his guilt. And now, the girl in the window has come to claim the debt."
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Before Clara could respond, a heavy thud echoed from the floorboards directly above their heads—the distinct sound of small, bare footsteps running across the living room rug toward the front door.
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