Chapter 3

The stagecoach dropped me at the gates of Thorne Manor.

They were tall, black iron, twisted like angry branches.

The manor itself sat far back, a dark shape against the gray sky.

It looked like it was rotting from the inside out.

A shiver went down my spine, but I pushed the gate open.

Eleanor Thorne met me at the door.

She was tall, thin, dressed in black silk that rustled like dry leaves.

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. They were like chips of ice.

"Sarah Miller," she said. "Welcome."

She said it like she was welcoming a fly into a spider's web.

"We've prepared Emily's... your room."

The room was huge, filled with dark, heavy furniture.

A thick layer of dust covered everything, except the bed.

It smelled strange, sweet and dusty, and something else... familiar.

It made my stomach clench.

I heard voices from the hallway, staff, hushed and scared.

"...just like the others..."

"...won't last the night..."

"...Emily... screamed so loud..."

Then Julian Thorne appeared in the doorway.

He was handsome, like the stories said, but pale, so pale.

He leaned against the doorframe, like standing was too much effort.

"Sarah," he said, his voice soft, a little breathless. "I'm so sorry for your sister. For all of them."

He looked at me with sad, dark eyes.

"I hope... I pray... you'll be the one to break this curse."

His words sounded rehearsed, empty.