“This part is hearsay, but it’s been repeated for as long as I’ve been here,” Kant continued. “The house’s owners need to spend the night in the house. The staff need to spend the night in the staff accommodations.”

The implications of that hit her like a punch to the stomach. Until then, she’d believed she wouldn’t have to be alone after sundown. Either Kant would stay with her, or she could stay with him, and his presence would work like a ward against fear.

The hill wasn’t content to let her have that, though. It was going to force her to spend the night alone, isolated. She lowered her head so they wouldn’t see the fear burning in her eyes.

“Your parents told me that.” Nora’s voice was very small. “They didn’t say why it was a rule, but I gathered it came from something that happened in a previous generation.”

“Abigail, maybe,” Ray said, “back in 1836. She fell in love with one of the workers. Slipped out of the house to spend the night with him. They found her the next morning, drowned in a shallow creek, clothes torn and scratch marks over her body.”

Nora nodded, her thumb running over her chin. “Maybe. Townspeople assumed the lover was responsible. But the Hulls—Abigail’s parents—put pressure on the police to drop the case against him. They knew more about what had happened than they shared with anyone, I’ll warrant.”

“That doesn’t prove she died because she left the house, though.” Margot’s heart was beating too fast. “It could have been a coincidence. Maybe the rule isn’t necessary.”

“Abigail’s death wasn’t the only instance,” Kant said softly. “That rule—stay where you belong—was learned at the cost of blood over many generations. Your parents never shared the details with us, but they would have known all the stories. Mostly from their own parents’ teachings.”

“That happened a lot, I gather,” Nora said. “Each generation passed on their knowledge to the next. They probably intended to do the same for you, either in person or in a letter. They just…”

“Didn’t expect their time to end so suddenly,” Andrew said.

Silence fell over them for a beat. Ray poured water into mugs of instant coffee and passed them out before falling back to rest against the kitchen cupboards.

Kant took a deep breath. “That’s part of what’s so tricky about this. Our knowledge is patchy at best. I would never call your parents secretive, except as far as the curse is concerned.”

“Mm.” Andrew took up his mug and stared into the steam. “I have a theory it’s because the knowledge is dangerous. The more you know, the more the curse targets you, maybe.”