Page 34 of Haunted Eclipse

“Please do,” she called back from the guest room where she was rearranging furniture.

“Don’t try to lift anything heavy till I get back. I’ll help you later!” I closed the door behind me, shivering as a gust of wind rushed by. Cautiously, I crossed the porch and managed to reach the car without slipping. I scraped off the snow, then—as I waited for the engine to heat up—I turned my thoughts to Brenda.

While waiting, I texted her.you still good with me coming over?

of course, but take it easy. it’s slick out on the roads.

i’ll be careful. see you in a while.

I fastened my seatbelt, eased out of the driveway, grateful that I’d learned to drive on snow.

Brenda livedon a cul-de-sac about ten minutes drive away from our house. But that was ten minutes on a day where the streets weren’t covered in snow. I watched my speed, trying not to besocautious that I caused a problem.

As I pulled into the cul-de-sac, I saw Brenda’s car. Her house was two-story, modern, and totally non-descript. I stepped out of the car, looking up at it, as I tried to sense what might be going on inside. A pall hung over the house, but when I tried to connect with it, all I got was a push-back. Whatever it was, it didn’t like me snooping.

Carrying my purse over one shoulder, and my tote over the other, I approached the door and rang the bell. A few seconds later, Brenda opened it and welcomed me in.

“I hope that you had an easy trip,” she said.

“Actually, it wasn’t too bad. Not many people are out on the roads, and that’s a good thing. The snow’s still coming down and it’s adding up on the streets.” I followed her into the living room. There, I set my tote and purse on the coffee table and took a seat on the sofa. The room was painted a pale sage, with eggshell accents. It was soothing, actually, and from the looksof things, Brenda had a minimalist aesthetic. Either that, or she was exceptionally tidy.

“You have a lovely home,” I said. But even as I sat there, I could feel something lurking around the corners. “So tell me, how long have you noticed the intrusive energy?”

She offered me coffee and I accepted. “Two sugar, please, and cream.”

As she handed me the cup—a large, teal colored mug—I sat back, crossing my legs. As I did so, I caught sight of something glimmering in the mirror on the far wall. I straightened, setting down my cup as I stared at the mirror.

“How long have you had that mirror?” I asked.

“I don’t know. My husband bought it. My late husband. He was the one who decorated this house. I don’t like the look, to be honest. Edgar said that my taste was gawdy, and he planned to teach me how to ‘acquire a pleasing aesthetic,’ as he put it. I have thought about changing things up over the years, but to be honest, it seems like a waste of money. Or, I’ll start planning out what I’d like the house to look like, and suddenly I get sidetracked or something happens and I need to pay for a major repair.” She let out a grumpy sigh.

“So, how long has the shadow been here?”

“Oh, right. I’m sorry, I went off on a tangent. Let’s see…I’d say…about three years—since shortly after Edgar died.”

The timing seemed awfully suspicious to me. “You said you were married for seven years. During that time, did you notice anything like the shadow?” My guess was that Edgar had left his mark in the house, but I couldn’t let myself jump to conclusions. And if it was him, and he was spurring on her dreams, why wouldIbe in them?

She thought for a moment. “I don’t honestly know. It was always so hard—he was such an asshole to me. If there was anything else going on, I doubt that I would have noticed. Hegaslit me, he constantly made digs about my looks and my manners… There were a couple times he slapped me around.”

I winced. The look on her face when she mentioned his abuse was painful. I could hear the memories in her voice, and it made me want to reach out to wherever he was to smack him a good one.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “No one should ever do that to their partner. Okay, so why don’t you show me around. I’ll need to poke and pry, but it’s because?—”

“Oh, I’m not worried about you being nosy. Of course you need to check everything out. I expected it. I’ve got nothing to hide.” Brenda stood, smoothing her skirt. “So, should we start with the upstairs?”

She led me up to the second floor. The house was a generic McMansion, as we called them around here. Cookie cutter houses, large in size on tiny lots, crowded together by developers out for every cent they could get.

Except here, in Midnight Point, there were ordinances against building houses too close together. So, while we had a semblance of the current trend, each house had a decent sized lot and looked less like a subdivision and more like a regular neighborhood.

The sage and eggshell theme continued upstairs, and I began to see how it didn’t suit Brenda’s personality. She was a sunny person, and it felt too pale for her—too neutral.

“You need to go through with your plans to redecorate,” I said. “This house is affecting you on an emotional level.” The moment I said that, the lights flickered and the energy grew thicker. I shivered, turning to Brenda. “Did you feel that?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I did. Whatever’s hanging around, it didn’t like your suggestion. Do you think it’s Edgar?”

“I think it might be, but I don’t want to say for sure because I’ve learned: never assume. Never decide something withoutinvestigation, because if you try the wrong fix for a magical issue, then you might make things worse.” I followed her into the bedroom, and reached out, looking for anything I could sense. Immediately, I felt a push back, like bouncing off a brick wall.

“Is something wrong?” Brenda asked.

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