You stare at the poor attempt of a makeshift bed you pushed across the tiled floor until the edge touched the candlesticks by the lit fireplace, huge flames lapping and roaring around the pile of wood with hiss. 

Despite the warmth, however, you can’t help but to shiver under your thin nightgown now adorned with a zip up and some leggings underneath. It takes you about ten minutes to finally settle under the covers with your air pod in, some ancient roman podcast murmuring softly into the device you kept in your ear. You keep still, sleepy gaze shifting to the fireplace as you try to go back to sleep after so many failed attempts not just a few hours ago, but since your first night settling in. 

You assume you’re just too overwhelmed with the sudden change of housing. After all, it wasn’t your plan to look after your late grandma’s grand estate in the middle of winter but for some reason, you found yourself already out your apartment with six month’s worth of clothes in two suitcases you dragged all the way to an exhausting eight-hour drive when your mother asked if you could do her a huge favour. You didn’t have much going on with life anyway, and you work from home so a change of view would be good, even if it’s quite drastic for your liking but you didn’t mind. 

The three-storey manor looked vintage at best - It’s nestled somewhere in the wilderness in the outskirts, huge pine trees hiding it from the world. It needs a little renovation, but still stood in such great condition if it wasn’t for the visible chipping paint and some growing moss snaking down the bricked roof. Her garden, you find, is one of the best places you imagine you’d be in, especially once the snow melts. There is even a huge fountain with some sort of a gargoyle perched right in the middle but you don’t stay out there for too long, not when it’s still freezing so you opt to make do inside the confines of the newly-profound space you are expected to take care of until it gets put out for sale when your mother’s plan comes into an end. For now, you plan to enjoy what has been left by your late grandma, even thinking of claiming some of vintage collection you’d like to keep for your own use or for her memory with you back in the city.

By day five, you find yourself unable to stay in what used to be one of her guest rooms. At first, you liked spending most of your time there as it has its own veranda attached and compared to the rest of the rooms from the same floor, it was the easiest to clean so you designate it as your bedroom for your stay. You couldn’t figure out what bothered you that night - the way the glass doors leading to the veranda would be left ajar even if you made sure it was closed, or how uncomfortably cold it gets even if you have a heater plugged in. At some point, you even find yourself waking up around two or three am in the morning for no reason at all only fall back asleep with some sort of a podcast or an instrumental playlist to help you sleep. 

“Maybe it’s because you’re not used to it yet.” You friend from work tells you over the phone. It’s the crack of dawn. You’re too frazzled to think. “Or have you considered hiring a paranormal investigator? Because from the sounds of it, you might be haunted.”

“I’m a skeptic.” You almost laugh. “I don’t think it’s haunted…Maybe I’m just having a hard time settling in.” 

“You literally live in a manor in middle of a forest.” She interjects, worry coating her tone. “I know you don’t believe in ghosts but you should consider getting that place blessed or something just in case. How old is that place again? Wasn’t it all the way from the 1800s?”

“1950s…” You circle by the island in the kitchen, the light from the chandelier above you the only thing casting brightness in the room. “I don’t know. I’ll keep you posted. I think I’m gonna try to sleep more now. Some deer woke me up earlier because it was trying to get in from the back door.” 

“Hmm, that’s ominous.” You can hear her typing away. “But yeah keep me posted! I’ll be leaving for Europe in two days so expect my replies to be slower, but I’ll still be here. Ok?” 

“Yup. Safe trip!” 

You bid your friend a good-bye before you trudge back to the living room to your makeshift cot, warm soy milk in hand. You work on catching up on your emails until nine am, but you barely focus, not when a possible paranormal situation might actually be taking place, and if it’s true, was it your late grandma just visiting?

A cold shiver runs down your spine as you shake your head at the ridiculous thought of her restless spirit lounging around her place and even if you’re a total skeptic, you strongly believe she’s not the type to latch on things. She did love this place but she made sure to inform you and your mother to do whatever you wished to the manor once she’s six foot under, so it couldn’t be from her - if the manor is truly harbouring “ghosts”.

You scold yourself for even thinking that when you hear the back door open after you have gone back from her garden to moon around, indicating that barn keeper has made their way into the kitchen with fresh milk and organic produce on-hand for your meals. 

Your grandma did own a b