Читать книгу Haunting at Remington House - Laura V. Keegan - Страница 13

Chapter 10

Elise cried, the sound not much louder than a tiny mew, as if from a kitten crying for its lost mama. The attic room was dark, cold, empty. She shivered, her teeth chattered. Elise thought she’d never be warm again.

This house was not like the Jamestown house—there seemed to be nowhere Elise felt safe or warm. As she wiped her tears away with her nearly transparent fist, she grew angry. She vowed she would not be the one to suffer, not anymore. She went downstairs in search of Tom.

Elise was still surprised by the floating quality of her existence, moving without conscious motion, merely a gentle transference of her spirit from one realm to another. Feeling quite ethereal, she drifted into the living room.

Tom sat in front of the fire absently-mindedly sipping a beer. Unseen, she circled around him, felt his sadness permeate the room like a heavy cloud. Seeing the sorrowful expression on his face, she felt exuberant. She so loved his pain. Elise’s ghostly fingers caressed the back of his neck, his shoulders. She laughed a silent laugh, then fled to the study to lie before the warm fire.