“Well!” Bethany explained as they ascended the grand stair. “I have had the most fun decorating the rooms! Mr. May gave me carte blanche to use my own judgment, so I chose a southern botanical theme. Each room is devoted to a specific flower. It’s taken me years!”

The stairs rose to the middle of an upper hallway extending both left and right. Directly across the landing, a railing matching the stairs opened to a view of the dining room below. “We call this the gallery,” Bethany said, gesturing for Cally to look down. The white-clad table below was sprinkled with rainbows cast by sunlight striking the crystal goblets on the sideboard.

“This looks like a perfect place for a ghost to hang out,” Cally mused aloud. “To taunt the living while they’re trying to have a quiet breakfast.”

“Many people think so,” said Bethany. “This is where people most often claim to see the White Lady, and some say they get a strange chill when they stand here.”

“Have you ever seen her?” Cally asked.

“Not I,” said Bethany. “But Katarina, our cook, could tell you some stories. You’ll meet her soon. She’s very excited about you staying here.”

She turned her back to the Gallery railing and spread her arms to indicate closed doors all along both sides of the upstairs hall. Instead of room numbers, each door was labeled with a small botanical print in an oval frame. The dark ends of the hall were illuminated by small green-shaded lamps on more-or-less matching butler’s desks. Leading Cally to a door bearing a plaque depicting a pink tea rose, she said proudly, “This is the Rose Room.”

As she fitted the key into the lock she added, “I apologize. I had hoped to give you the Wisteria Room, which is our most famously haunted room.” She gestured toward a door diagonally across the hall. “But the Iversons booked the room months ago. They always stay in that room when they come every summer. They love to tell everyone they’re sleeping in a haunted room.”

Wisteria, thought Cally, or hysteria? But aloud she said “Aren’t they afraid?”

Bethany laughed. “Not Mrs. Iverson! She says she would love to see a real ghost. Though I think her husband just humors her. She says she hears footsteps in the night, and feels strange chills, and sometimes her things get moved around. She says it’s thrilling to think there might be more to this world than we know.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“If you want,” she added, “I would be happy to help you move across the hall into the Wisteria room after the Iversons check out.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Cally said. Bethany turned the doorknob and found the door already unlocked. “There you are: Ignacio has already brought your small bag in. He’s probably fetching your other ones from your car right now.”

“Is his name Ignacio, or Pedro?” Cally asked. “Only I thought I heard Joan call him Pedro.”

“Joan says she can’t pronounce Ignacio’s name,” Bethany explained, “so she just makes something up.” She didn’t say what she thought of this as she opened the door. She stood just inside with her hands clasped in front of her, watching Cally enter.

Cally looked around the room and struggled to find the words she knew Bethany was waiting to hear. Her small black bag looked completely out of place lying amid several rose-shaped throw pillows on the floral bedspread. Chintz-upholstered furniture had been shoehorned into the wide but shallow space, so the foot of the bed nearly touched the back of the desk chair, but the desk was wide, and Cally did appreciate that. Tall casement windows opened behind the desk onto the belvedere she had seen from the parking lot below, and through the rose-patterned curtains she could see a magnificent view of the meadow bordering the property. The room’s walls were covered in vintage rose wallpaper, and rose-shaped rugs were placed in strategic places over the pink carpet. Framed oil paintings of rose-covered garden gates hung on the walls. Cally swallowed and said “You have been very thorough.”

Bethany beamed with pleasure and handed Cally the key. “There is your closet,” she said, gesturing, “and this room has a private bath, which is just through there.” The bathroom door looked like it had also once led to a closet. “I hope you’ll be comfortable.”

“I’m sure I will.” She was surprised to realize, in spite of the busy abundance of details, she was telling the truth. The gentle slant of sunlight in the room was already beginning to make her feel calmer than she had in a long time, and she especially liked the view of the meadow. She hung her purse on the rose-shaped closet doorknob, a habit she had got into during her years of touring for her book, and this made the room feel like it was officially hers, for now, anyway.

“If you need anything at all,” said Bethany, “just press zero on the phone. It rings straight to my desk.” She gestured toward the phone on the night stand. The phone was pink. “I can still have Katarina re-heat some breakfast for you if you’re hungry.”

“No, really, I’m fine,” Cally assured her. “What I think I need most right now is some rest. I really didn’t sleep very well last night.”

Bethany clasped her hands and backed toward the door. “You rest, then. I’ll just tell Ignacio to leave your bags outside the door and not disturb you. We hope you’ll find your stay very inspiring!” She pulled the door shut behind her.

Cally sat down on the bed and let herself sink into the rose-covered pillows. “I hope so, too,” she said. “You just wouldn’t believe how much I hope so.” It was pretty much the only hope she had left.