Claire, Georgia, and Danny aren't your average ghost hunters. Their hit livestream channel "Creep It Real" rakes in thousands of viewers each time they go live. But what their fans don't know is that the trio fake the hauntings they come across at e...
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The road to Grimwood stretches ahead of us. After over an hour on the highway, Danny takes an exit that leads onto a dirt road. It's your average small, rundown Midwest town; nothing but an old gas station and a white-steepled church for blocks. After five minutes, we even pass by a local watering hole with two motorcycles and a tomcat outside.
"Are you sure we're in the right place?" I ask Danny, who's in the driver's seat.
He nods, his eyes never wavering from the road. "Yep. This is Waterton Creek. That's where Grimwood is."
Ouch. I can't blame him for being short with me. I've replayed our conversation in my mind since that night, mostly because I regret how I spoke to him. Why couldn't I have been more supportive?
Why couldn't he? I also think, but I'd never say that out loud. Well, at least not to his face.
More silence passes as the dusty streets go by. Eventually, Danny takes a right turn, and the street turns into another dirt road, but one that's narrow. The van rocks a bit, and I can only imagine how Georgia must feel in the back. Thankfully, I can't hear her.
The road winds and curves with large trees surrounding us on either side. When they finally clear, the manor comes into view.
As soon as I see it and take it in, I lose my breath. It's gorgeous. The house — which is an unfair descriptor to use — is a dark color, almost black, with huge white windows all along the wide structure. If eyes are the windows to the soul, these windows will tell me all of the manor's secrets.
"Wow," I let out in a short breath as Danny puts the van in park. "I didn't realize..."
"It's amazing, isn't it?" He says just as breathlessly. I look at him. His smile is broad with genuine excitement. As I meet his strong gaze, I feel an invisible link between us, as if we're sharing a connection, an understanding. As if nothing is wrong at all.
My breath catches. "Danny, I —"
Before I can twist my words anymore, there's a loud knock on my window. I jump and turn in my seat. Georgia stands outside with her hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised.
"Hell-o?" She says with a twinge of annoyance. "You coming or what?"
I sigh and look back over my shoulder at Danny to give him that side-eye look. But he's already opening his door, so I only side-eye his back. And what a good back he has. His shoulder blades flex under the cotton of his long sleeve shirt—
Georgia taps on the window again. "Earth to Claire!" Her muffled voice comes through the glass. I take a deep breath before opening the door, letting the country air wash over me as Georgia's voice comes full-blast.
"About time!" She says, then does a spin. The breeze whips through her hair. "Alright, people!" She claps. "We got a show to prepare!"
What's left of daylight reflects on the tall gabled roof and the windows. From further away, I thought the manor looked older and more rundown — you know, like it's supposed to be, given it's abandoned and going to be torn down in two weeks. But the windows look spotless. There are also no cobwebs or overgrown vines to be seen.
