Sarah’s heart knocked hard and fast in her chest as she stood on the landing, listening for every sound. Was she imagining the faint whispers? The scratching in the walls? Blackhall Manor had a dark past long before her family inhabited it. The big, grand manor house full of secrets and dread. Tonight, the air was thick and frozen, white breath billowing as Sarah took slow shallow breaths.

‘Hello?’ she called out, her candle quivering in her grip. She hardly needed the light. Now that she was back here, she remembered every inch of this place. It was buried in her memories, the ties of the past steadfast. But she didn’t belong here anymore. The place was toxic. When this was over, she would have Blackhall Manor flattened to the ground. A long, hollow groan swept through the landing, as if in response to her thoughts. Or perhaps it was preparing for battle. One step in front of the other, she told herself, as goosebumps rose on her arms.

There was movement throughout the house from every orifice. Bats, mice and insects had made this place their home. She shuddered as she felt a breath of wind sweep over her face.

It was wind, wasn’t it?

‘Hello?’ she called again, every fibre of her being on high alert. She checked her phone. No signal. As she touched her bedroom door the voice of her mother whispered in the air. ‘Not my little girl.’

Sarah froze. It was the echo of a memory, that was all. But was that lavender she could smell? The lightest of touches was all that was needed for the door to creak open. The room was cloaked in darkness, but there was a person-shaped lump beneath her bed clothes. Every horror story she had ever heard came flooding into her mind. But this was her story. She had to finish it. She gripped the candle tighter, hot wax burning her skin as she crept towards the bed. Could it be Jahmelia? She did not want to see what was beneath the blanket but was helpless to stop. As she pulled back the cover she felt awash with relief. It was a pillow, blue-black with mould.