Phantoms of the Past

Chapter Seven: The Aftermath

We packed up the last of our things in a quiet, almost sombre mood. The old Blackwood Hotel had been our home for the summer, a strange, haunted home that had thrown us into chaos but also forged a bond between the six of us we would never have imagined. I folded my last sweater into my suitcase, zipping it up as I glanced around the small room that had been mine for the past few months.

"Feels weird, doesn't it?" Madelyn said from the doorway, her multiple blinged-out duffel bags already slung over her shoulder. "Like... we're leaving, but it's not really over."

I nodded, taking in the faded wallpaper, the old-fashioned lamps, and the window with the view of the sprawling mountains in the distance. "Yeah," I agreed quietly. "It's like the hotel is saying goodbye to us."

As eerie as the summer had been, there was a strange comfort in knowing we had faced it all together. And now, we were leaving it behind, ghosts and all. One by one, we gathered in the lobby, our bags piled up near the front desk. The hotel felt different now, lighter almost, as if a weight had lifted from its ancient walls. After everything we'd been through, it was hard to believe that just a few months ago, this place had seemed like a normal summer job. Mr. Hawthorne stood behind the counter, looking as poised as ever, though there was a new glimmer in his eye, gratitude, maybe, or relief. He had always been a mysterious figure, but in these final moments, it was clear he cared more than he ever let on.

"Well," he began, clearing his throat, "I must say, I didn't expect you all to survive the summer with everything that transpired."

Derek snorted beside me, and I elbowed him lightly. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," He muttered under his breath. Hawthorne chuckled, a rare sound from the usually stern man.

"You exceeded my expectations, all of you," he said, his voice growing more serious. "This hotel has seen many strange things in its time, but nothing quite like this. The way you handled... Vincent, and what you did for the hotel, well, you've done more than just survive. You've freed this place."

"So, no more curses? No more ghosts?" Thomas asked, half-joking but clearly hoping for a real answer.

Mr. Hawthorne shook his head. "None that I'm aware of. But should anything else arise... you know who to contact."

His gaze lingered on each of us, and for a moment, it felt like a weighty promise. I caught Derek's eye, and he gave me a small smirk, like we'd just been given an invitation to more chaos. "I also wanted to thank you," Hawthorne continued. He reached beneath the counter and pulled out six white envelopes, sliding them across the desk toward us. "Your final paychecks, plus a little something extra as a token of my gratitude."

I reached for mine, feeling the weight of it. As I peeled open the envelope, my eyes widened at the sight of multiple bills, equivalent to two grand. Derek let out a low whistle, and the rest of us exchanged shocked glances.

"Hawthorne," Derek said, unable to hide his grin, "you really shouldn't have."

"I didn't want to seem ungrateful," Hawthorne said dryly, though his tone carried a hint of warmth. "You've all earned it. Consider it both your final paycheck and my personal thank you for... well, everything."

We stood there, stunned for a moment, before murmuring our thanks. I felt a mix of gratitude and disbelief, two grand was more than I'd ever expected to make at a summer job, let alone for surviving a haunted hotel.

"You've all grown this summer," Hawthorne said, his gaze softening as he looked at each of us. "And you've proven yourselves to be resilient, resourceful, and... braver than most people twice your age. I hope you take that with you, wherever life leads you next."