Paranelope, a ghost hunter who's been cancelled for faking evidence, must discover the truth behind a local cryptid in order to clear her name.
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Penelope, better known as the ghost hunter PARANELOPE to her millions of followers, has only ever want...
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Penelope found herself walking down a sterile white hallway, one that felt both familiar and foreign. There was a window at the end and the sun coming through was too bright, making the polished floor underfoot shine like a mirror, blinding her. And though Penelope dreaded what she would find when she made it to the end of that hall, she kept walking.
It was only once she had reached the end, reached the room through the very last door, that she realized her father was with her. It seemed obvious—of course, he was here. His wife was in that room.
Her mother.
She felt her father's hand at the small of her back, gently guiding her through the door. She didn't want to go in, but she had to.
In that room—in that small, terrible little room—her mother was laid in a bed, strung up with wires. So much had already been taken from her. Her cheeks were gaunt and there were deep shadows under her eyes. She was not her usual vibrant, hardy self. She was a shadow of herself, diminished under the harsh fluorescents.
Her mother looked up as they entered. She gave them a weak smile as if to comfort them even though she was the one recovering from surgery—the surgery that was meant to cut out the cancer but instead had only found more.
Penelope went to the far side of the bed, turning her back to the window. She took her mother's hand; she trembled as she felt how loose her wedding ring was on her too-thin fingers.
There were no more ifs, no more buts...
No more hope.
Her mother was going to die.
Something slammed into the window behind her, rattling the glass.
Penelope dropped her mother's hand and spun around.
A sleek black bird was sitting on the sill, shaking its head out. A raven. It paused, like it felt her gaze on it, then raised its head and stared at her with its gleaming black eyes.
"FOLLOW ME," it croaked.
Penelope lurched up with a gasp. She wasn't in a hospital, but in the back room of the cabin, twisted in the sheets of the small bed.
