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happened to the family. Maybe someone will let something slip. Maybe we’ll learn more from our guests.”

“Our guests?” Clara asked. “You don’t really expect it to take that long, do you? Don’t you want to solve this before we bring guests in?”

“Of course, I do. I’m just not sure how. So, I don’t know, all I’m saying is maybe we should go about our business with our ears and eyes open until we come across something. Maybe we should focus on the opening until we think of a way to tackle this, or until we hear something at the opening. Our hands are kind of tied.”

“But what if they…” Clara glanced around the room before leaning closer to Ezra. “What if that makes the ghosts mad? What if they haunt us or harm us or…”

“I don’t think they’ll do that,” he assured her. “Like I said before, I do think they’re kind. They’re not out to get us and we’re not giving up on them, not at all. We’re just biding our time while being super aware of any way we can move forward with this. Unless you have any better suggestions. I’m completely open to them.”

Clara wanted to put out another option. Sitting back and doing nothing didn’t feel right. She wanted this solved right then and there. But nothing came to mind.

“I guess we just try to coexist with ghosts then,” she said. Ezra nodded.

“I think that’s the only thing we can do.”

Some of the good feelings brought on by their day out faded as Clara wondered if their bed and breakfast would ever fully be their own.

42

The next couple of weeks were productive for Clara and Ezra. Ezra focused on the restaurant heavily and made some much-needed repairs. Meanwhile, Clara focused on doing some decorating and remodeling, as well as getting the proper paperwork and advertising in order.

For the most part, the ghosts left them alone as Ezra said they would. At the very least, they didn’t see them again. However, odd things kept happening. Random things went missing and sometimes they had the distinct feeling they were being watched. Yet they continued because this was their dream, and they weren’t ready to give up. Not quite yet anyway.

Having made it through many of the rooms, Clara decided to finally tackle the attic. She had avoided it after the spooky happenings in the house, even though nothing scary had happened up there. She figured it’d be a great place for ghosts to hang out, and dealing with them was kind of like dealing with mice in your house. She knew they were there, but her efforts to get rid of them had been unsuccessful so far. So, she tried to avoid them, so she didn’t have to deal with the fear. The fear didn’t ever actually go away though, and she knew she couldn’t avoid it forever.

She told Ezra where she’d be so if she went missing, he’d know where to look. She made sure she had her phone on her, then she took a deep breath and started up the stairs.

The boards creaked under her feet, making her question each step. Surely Ezra would deal with the mess in the attic if she asked him to. So, why not just ask him to?

She chided herself. Ezra was already dealing with a lot, that’s why she hadn’t asked him to tackle this so far. She could do it. This was still her house and she wanted to feel comfortable in it. She didn’t want to fear a single room within these walls. She was going to make this house a home.

Armed with forced confidence, she walked to the top of the stairs and turned the lights on. It was a bit unnecessary. The windows allowed plenty of light into the attic, but Clara didn’t want to take any chances. The two lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling plus all the natural light pouring in assured her no one else was up here. All that awaited her were boxes and children’s toys scattered about.

She touched a rocking horse with her toe and listened to it creak as it moved back and forth. She thought about bringing the toys downstairs for guests to play with, but she wasn’t sure they’d appreciate that, so she made a mental note to donate them instead. Then, she walked past the toys to a more boring pile.

Along one wall was a desk and boxes of records pertaining to the bed and breakfast. Thankfully, they were well organized so Clara could easily sort through the ones they needed and disregard the ones that could be thrown away.

She became immersed in these files, grateful she came up here. There was a lot of important information about the best vendors to buy from, helpful guidelines about what to charge, promotions that went well and those that didn’t, ideas for the future, among many other useful things. Lyla and Richard had been meticulous about their record keeping, and it was clear they put a lot of thought and effort into the bed and breakfast.

“Hope you guys don’t mind if I use some of these,” Clara said as she stacked up some of the more helpful documents. Then, a journal caught her attention. She opened it, expecting more figures and notes on the business. But this one was a bit more personal. This journal was kept by Lyla and detailed her days beyond the business.

Upon realizing this, Clara quickly closed the book. It felt wrong to be reading Lyla’s thoughts. It clearly wasn’t meant for others to read. But then she thought of Lyla’s warnings and pleas. They wanted her to find who killed them, and the journal could hold important information that would help her do so.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I won’t linger on anything too personal; I just want to see if it’ll help. If you don’t want me to read it, knock it out of my hand or something.”

Clara waited. The journal remained steady

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