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She looked like death.

Chapter 16

“Kenna, what is the matter? You…you don’t look well.”

Kenna nodded as if she knew that and shakily reached for my hand. Her demeanor frightened me, and the staunch contrast of the high of thirty seconds earlier made my sudden concern for her more intense.

“Aye, I doona feel well either. I need ye to come with me. I’m too frightened to go and see for meself.”

I tried to keep pace as she tugged me through the many hallways of the castle.

“Where are we going, Kenna? What’s going on?”

Kenna stopped suddenly, whirling toward me as she pulled me to the side of the hallway and leaned in close, her voice a frightened whisper.

“Baodan came to me today. He saw Osla last night. And Mitsy saw her this morning.”

“What?” I frowned at her. “What do you mean, he saw her?”

“’Tis what I asked him. They saw her ghost. Both of them swear it.”

I hardly knew what to say. I’d never been much of one to believe in ghosts, but then again, a few years ago I wouldn’t have been one to believe in time travel either.

“Well…that’s…not great.”

It was a stupid response, but it was all that came to mind. Truth was, I’d thought little of the painting since that night. Duncan had seemed so certain that returning Osla to the castle would resolve things that I’d not questioned his logic.

“Nae, lass. It is no’.”

“So, where are we going? What do you want to do about it?”

“I am taking ye to the cellar where I left Osla’s painting. I need to see if ’tis still there, and I was too frightened to go alone. Since no one else save Rosie kens about what happened that night, it must be ye that comes with me.”

She spun away from me and continued her fast clip toward the basement. She reached for a candle off the wall sconce as she pushed open the old wooden door and began the descent into darkness.

“Oh my God.”

I stared blankly at the empty spot against the wall.

The painting was gone.

* * *

Rosie

“Cooper, we’ve been sitting here in the dark for hours. I really don’t think we’re going to see anything. Maybe you just misheard Baodan. We didn’t turn her into a ghost. Can we please just go to bed now?”

“No, Rosie. We aren’t going anywhere. And I know we didn’t turn her into a ghost. We just set the ghost that was in the painting free.”

Cooper’s voice was firm, frustrated. He rarely sounded that way. It was enough to keep Rosie seated just where she was.

Minutes ticked by. Hours.

Eventually, Rosie couldn’t bear it a moment longer.

“I’m done, Cooper. I have to get some sleep. You sit here as long as you want. I’m going to bed.”

Grabbing her candle, Rosie pushed herself up from the floor and stomped off into the hallway before falling back against the wall in horror at the sight in front of her.