----------------------------------------

“Ariel... you haven’t been seeing things, have you?”

With her back to him, Ariel bit her lip. Shoot. I need to be more careful.

“Seeing things, Leroy? I do have a pair of eyes, you know.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” the monk replied, falling into step beside her. “You would tell me, wouldn’t you? If you saw something? You’ve been going on to Jasper about how you think this place is haunted…”

Ariel felt the pressure of his words, but she knew how to handle it. If she could hold up against the likes of Jasper, Leroy had no chance of cracking her. The old man’s secret was safe for a while longer.

“You don’t think unusual things have been happening, Leroy? That hall of mirrors, our encounter with something just hours ago? Mandy and I fell through a perfectly sound floor,” Ariel countered, giving him an equally questioning look.

The monk looked thoughtful, then nodded. “Oy, I’m on your side. Those things are odd, I was just saying…”

Looking to change the subject before her guilt made things difficult, Ariel pointed out the pictures they had just arrived at. “Here! Help me look.”

And so the search began. Ariel closed her eyes for a moment, trying to recall the details of the photo she had only seen a handful of times. A sudden chill ran up her back.

“Hey, Ariel—what are we looking for again? I mean, I know an actress, but there must be twenty here and—”

The monk’s voice faded out. Ariel was no longer listening. An image, a vision, appeared in her mind, sharp as the picture ever was—a little girl’s face. The chill left her, and Ariel’s eyes flew open. Her first impulse was to whip around and see what had just moved past her, but Leroy was staring at her.

“Ariel? You’re not going to faint on me, are you?”

Ariel shook her head quickly. “Faint? Uh—no. I was just closing my eyes to think better… The picture was of a little girl with long blonde hair,” Ariel explained, her beam of light moving intently over the many pictures gleaming back at her.

Leroy blinked and watched her for a moment. “Blonde hair, you said?” he continued, joining her search.

“Yeah…” Ariel murmured distractedly as she focused on each of the beautiful actresses smiling back at her. They were all so much older—how was she ever going to pick one out as the little girl?

“Hey—would you look at this…” the monk spoke up.

Ariel tore her eyes off the latest actress she was scrutinizing to look at what Leroy had found. In a set of three large frames, complete with gold nameplates, were pictures of the infamous Marlowes. Ariel’s eyes ran over the name: Tokuya Marlowe, and a slight pang hit her heart. Looking up, just above the name was the man himself, gazing kindly down at her. Ariel was not startled by his appearance—besides having slightly rosier cheeks, this was the same Mr. Marlowe she had been seeing the past three days.

“That’s him, huh? The Mr. Marlowe we’ve been hearing so much about? How about it, Ariel—look anything like the ghost?”

Ariel looked up at the monk, startled. “What do you mean? How should I know—I’ve never… seen—”

“Never seen him? Then just what did you see today with Mandy and Mr. Warner?” Leroy protested, giving her a strange look.

Oops.

“Ooh, that. I forgot. Um—I can’t recall, he was gone so fast.”

I plead the fifth.

The monk returned her quick, innocent-looking smile with a critically raised eyebrow. “But, hey—let’s take Mandy here tomorrow and ask her what she thinks, she has the better memory and all…” Ariel rambled on under his heavy look.

Realizing he wasn’t letting it go easily, she became absorbed in examining the picture right below Mr. Marlowe’s. That’s when she noticed it. Empty. Blank. Gone. There was not a single trace that the frame had ever been filled, and if it weren’t for the dusty gold nameplate below it, Ariel might have thought it was just there by mistake.

Rebecca Marlowe. Mr. Marlowe’s daughter. Ariel frowned. “They must really hate her…” she said quietly, pointing to the vacant frame she was staring at.

Beside her, Leroy nodded. “Yeah, but would you keep a picture up of someone in a fancy gold frame who was planning on tearing your theater down?”

Ariel’s frown deepened. “No, I guess not,” she answered, imagining Mr. Warner marching up to the picture and angrily pulling it out. “I wonder if she knows she’s been taken out of here,” Ariel went on, for some reason entranced with the fact that someone could be removed from her family like that.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The monk made a knowing noise. “I’m sure. We’ve seen her here a few times, and I’m sure she’s come before… It’s her own fault.”

Ariel nodded. “She was pretty cold. I wonder why she would hate this theater so much?”

Leroy shrugged. “I guess that’s a question for Jasper. He interviewed her.”

Ariel grew quiet, her questions disappearing as her eyes fell on the picture placed directly next to Mr. Marlowe’s. Yvonne Marlowe—and oh, what a beauty she was. Ariel, if she had any hopes before, now despaired of ever emulating her stunning looks.

Inspiring? Try hypnotizing.

“Wow…” Leroy breathed.

Yes, wow. But Ariel soon saw something more. Haughtiness, sharp and cold, hidden but present in the woman’s eyes. Mrs. Williams was not chiding before—Ariel knew that if she could have given the picture a voice at that moment, she would have been greeted coldly, or not at all...

They say that a picture speaks a thousand words, and Ariel could hear them all: Yes, I’m rich, inspiring, beautiful… and you are no one compared to me.

A pretty smile, a pretty face… and an ugly smugness. But none of that truly mattered—Ariel had found her match.

“Is this? I can’t remember very well…” Leroy spoke, squinting at the photo as if that could help his memory.

The photo burned bright in Ariel’s mind, those sapphire eyes… the golden hair… All the picture on the wall was missing was youth and innocence.

“Yes, I think so…” Ariel finally answered, feeling strangely detached.

There was no lightbulb going off, no real spark of realization. The discovery somehow seemed to fall flat. But what was she expecting? A eureka moment? This was it, there she was, mystery solved—or at least part of it.

“Mission accomplished, but where do we go from here?” Leroy asked, eyeing the picture as curiously as Ariel.

Ariel blinked. Where did they go from there? What was all this supposed to mean? The picture she had found in the office was merely one of Mr. Marlowe’s wife as a child. Why had the situation seemed so desperate, why had she gone back for the photo? What was its significance?

“Earth to Ariel,” Leroy said, waving a hand in front of her face. “I was asking what you wanted to do from here—”

“Um, sorry, Leroy. I guess… why don’t we head back?”

“Sounds good. We can think on it and talk later,” the monk agreed, stepping in line to follow her lead out.

After a few moments of walking, Ariel felt a surge of energy return, accompanied by a dull headache. She quickened her pace. Leroy, too, seemed to catch a spark of excitement, his thoughts clearly focused on the warm dinner awaiting him. Somewhere, a nagging voice began speaking once more in Ariel’s head, drowning out any thoughts regarding the Marlowes.

Festival, festival, festival, it whispered. Ariel swallowed, her head throbbing worse than before.

“So, it was a picture of his wife,” Leroy spoke, breaking the thoughtful silence.

Grateful for the distraction from her anxieties, Ariel tried to refocus on what they had just discovered. “Yes... just his wife.”

“It’s strange. Why would your intuition tell you to retrieve a photo if it’s only his wife?” the monk mused, looking down at her curiously.

Ariel gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t know. That’s what confuses me.”

“Hmm, we’ll have to think on it. I’ll keep my eyes open,” Leroy offered as they turned the last corner.

Ariel smiled up at him. “Thanks, Leroy—for all your help. I couldn’t have figured out this much on my own.”

“I know,” the monk answered with a wink.

Ariel gave him a playful nudge as they entered the foyer. A new emotion gripped her: dread. Looming in the pale light of their flashlights were the large doors, their only exit.

“Are you going to be okay this time around?” Leroy asked gently, noting her pale complexion.

Ariel could tell she wasn’t. Her stomach was already churning, and the pressure in her head was escalating. Determinedly, she bit her lip and nodded up at the monk. “I’ll be okay. Let’s just get out of here.”

He didn’t believe her, but he nodded, and then they crossed over to the doors and passed through them. Emerging into the sultry night air, the moisture from the earlier rain lingering, Leroy was careful not to let go of Ariel’s arm. Ariel sank to her knees, grateful for an empty stomach as it felt as though it might turn itself inside out.

“Just breathe, Ariel,” Leroy urged, his warm, heavy hand rubbing her back gently.

Taking deep breaths, Ariel stood with the monk’s support. “Better?” he asked uncertainly.

Ariel nodded and gave him a small smile. “Better.”

Letting out a sigh, Leroy helped Ariel down the stairs. “This isn’t good, Ariel. We’re going to have to find you a new way in.”

“Yeah, but where?” Ariel answered, releasing Leroy’s arm as she slowly felt strong enough to walk on her own again.

“What about that room we saw this morning, the one where Mr. Warner accepted those deliveries of flowers?” the monk suggested.

“We’ll have to ask him about it...” Ariel replied, her mind drifting from the conversation as they passed the festival grounds.

The moonlight cast an eerie glow over the festival area, casting long shadows that danced with every step. The remnants of the earlier rain clung to the air, making the night feel heavier, more oppressive. The colorful banners and half-constructed booths looked ghostly in the dim light, adding to Ariel’s growing sense of unease.

She glanced at Leroy, who seemed lost in thought, probably thinking of their next steps or maybe just that dinner he was so eager for. Ariel’s mind, however, was a whirlwind of questions and fears. What was the significance of the photo? Why did it feel so urgent? And how did it connect to the strange occurrences they had been experiencing?

They reached the edge of the festival grounds, where the path forked. To the left lay the town center, its lights twinkling invitingly. To the right was the winding road leading back to the mansion, now shrouded in darkness. Ariel stopped, looking both ways, feeling the weight of her decision pressing down on her.

“We should head back,” Leroy said softly, as if reading her thoughts. “We need to figure this out, but not tonight. You need rest.”

Ariel nodded, grateful for his understanding. Together, they turned left, heading toward the town center. The familiar sounds and sights of the town began to replace the oppressive silence of the festival grounds, easing Ariel’s tension.

As they walked, Leroy kept a steady pace beside her, occasionally glancing over to make sure she was okay. Ariel appreciated his presence, knowing that without him, she might have crumbled under the weight of it all. The night’s events replayed in her mind, each moment tinged with mystery and a hint of fear.

By the time they reached the warmly lit town center, Ariel felt a semblance of normalcy returning. The bright lights and the distant chatter of people brought her back to reality, grounding her in the present. Leroy guided her to a bench near a small café, and they sat down.

“Tomorrow,” Leroy said, breaking the silence, “we’ll talk to Mr. Warner and get to the bottom of this.”

Ariel nodded, her thoughts still scattered but a bit clearer. “Tomorrow,” she echoed, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the confusion.