“No, I haven’t thanked them, or it, or…”
“Because you didn’t want to believe they exist.”
“Why would I?” Exhausted by the rant, Sonya dropped down again. “Why would anybody want to believe they might be living in a haunted house? Last night…”
She closed her eyes, breathed deep.
“Last night, someone pounded on the door. The front door. It woke me up. And when I looked out the window, I swear, Cleo, there was a blizzard. Snow, howling wind. I went down. I thought someone had an accident or their car broke down. But when I opened the door, there was nothing. No snow, nobody, no howling wind. I didn’t dream it.”
“Okay.” With a nod, Cleo took another sip of wine. “It’ll take me two or three weeks to get everything together and move up here.”
“You—” Sonya covered her face with her hands and burst into tears.
“Aw, come on, Son. Come on.” Rising, Cleo shifted seats and wrapped around her friend. “It’s okay. We’ll be roomies again. In really big rooms. You don’t think I’d let you have a haunted house all to yourself.”
“I love you so much.”
“I love you right back.”
“You’re sure—not about loving me, but moving here?”
“Absolutely sure. And I hope whoever’s in charge of housekeeping turns down my bed, too.”
“If they don’t, I will.”
With a laugh, Cleo drew back. “We’re going to have some fun. Anyway, if loving my best friend and the ghosts hadn’t done it, that turret studio did. I’ve been obsessed with it since we FaceTimed.”
“Do you want the apartment?”
Laughing, Cleo gave Sonya a little shove. “Do you think I’m giving up the beautiful Bluebird? No possible way. Come on. Let’s go get me unpacked.”
They unpacked, then finished the wine in one of the sitting rooms by the fire. They made canned tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner—a college-days staple.
Over another bottle of wine, they huddled on the sofa in the front parlor, sharing a bowl of popcorn and making plans.
When they finally went upstairs, Sonya pulled Cleo into her bedroom. “See! Do you see? You know I haven’t been up here. But the fire’s on, the bed’s turned down.”
“Say thank you.”
“Thank you? I—”
“Now let’s go see if I got the same service.”
When Cleo walked in, saw the gas fire glowing, the bed turned down, her reaction was to clap her hands together and laugh.
“All right! That’s so sweet. Thank you!”
“There are parts of you I’ll never fully understand.”
“Born in the bayou,” Cleo sang.
“But you weren’t.”
“My grand-mère was. I’m going to sleep like a queen. See you in the morning.”
Sonya might have shaken her head as she walked back to her room. But when she slipped into bed, she smiled knowing Cleo slept just a few rooms away.
* * *
“Sonya! Wake up!”
With the stage-whisper voice in her ear and the hand shaking her shoulder, Sonya shot from dead asleep to wide awake with a single wild jolt.
“What? What?”
“Ssh! Listen!” Cleo gripped her shoulder now.
The piano music seemed to float upstairs. “Do you hear that?” In the dim light of the fire, Sonya clutched at Cleo with both hands. “Tell me you hear that.”
“Of course I hear it. It’s why I’m waking you up at three in the morning. We have to go check it out.”
“We have to go check it out,” Sonya repeated, struggling against dread as she got out of bed.
“Do you know the song?” Still whispering, Cleo tugged Sonya out of the room. “It sounds familiar. Sort of familiar.”
“I thought I dreamed it.”
“Unless you and I are having the same dream at the same time while we’re walking out of your sitting room, that’s a no.”
As they approached the staircase, the music came clearer.
“Wait.” Sonya dashed into the library, arrowed toward the fireplace. She grabbed the poker.
“Son, I don’t think a piano-playing ghost is looking for a fight. Plus, what are you going to do with that? Kill them?”
Gripping the poker with both hands, Sonya sent Cleo a don’t-argue-with-me glare.
They crept down the stairs, and when they reached the base, Sonya nodded toward the music room. Light flickered there, as if from candles or flames in a hearth.