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Chapter 2 - Whispers in the Walls

The sun barely broke through the clouds the next day, casting a sickly light over the manor. Ava woke groggy and unrested, haunted by memories of her reflection's twisted smile. It hadn't been a dream. She knew that much.

After dressing quickly, she descended the main staircase, her footsteps echoing in the cavernous silence. The antique grandfather clock in the hall chimed softly—7:12 AM. Yet, the house still felt as if it were asleep.

In the kitchen, she found a half-filled kettle on the stove and a note on the counter, written in fine cursive:

"Welcome, Ava. Please make yourself at home. I'll return in a few days. – M. Addington"

Ava frowned. No signature, no phone number. Just initials.

She poured herself a cup of tea and stared at the window overlooking the rear garden. The trees seemed to lean closer to the house than she remembered. A shadow shifted near the hedges—too quick to catch.

She shook her head. "Don't be paranoid."

The day dragged slowly. With no internet and no signal, Ava resorted to journaling on her phone and rereading Elora's diary.

By late afternoon, she was back in the library.

The second entry she read chilled her to the bone:

*"He walks at night. I hear the dragging. One leg limps. One boot scrapes. He doesn't knock. He waits."

Suddenly, the floor above creaked.

Ava froze. No one else was supposed to be here.

She tiptoed into the hallway, following the sound.

Another creak.

Then silence.

Her eyes drifted to the staircase that led to the attic. At its base, a dusty rope barrier hung limp, as though no one had touched it in years.

But Ava noticed something that didn't belong.

A muddy footprint—fresh, and heading up.

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This novel... I'm also confused, I'm confused about continuing, I'm thinking about stopping writing this novel... I'm asking for the opinion of readers who read this novel of mine, Can you?. If you still can't, I'm not forcing you either.

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