Chapter 15

Lucky positioned her camera at the foot of her bed to record her reactions as she watched the previous caretaker footage. She shared small pieces of her apple slices with Gengar while taking notes on her phone.

Caretaker Number One: Bobbi Grayson. Cheery disposition. Main character energy. Aspiring actress with various work experience, primarily retail. Slept extremely well on night one. Experienced sudden headaches in the early afternoon. Felt compelled to leave the suite but resisted due to overwhelming fear on night two. Abruptly left in the middle of night three. During follow-up inquiries, recounted waking up to her deceased guinea pig curled in the crook of her neck and having a conversation with her grandpa, who begged her to stay in the house forever. Confirmed specter: Her grandpa currently lives in Austria and is in decent health.

Caretaker Number Two: Brian Ford-Mackenzie.Very self-assured, borderline arrogant. Family owns a bed-and-breakfast where he worked part-time in high school. Former athlete transitioning to acting. Slept very well on night one. Reported multiple physical ailments including headaches, nausea, and exhaustion in the afternoon. On night two, immediately had difficulty sleeping, with reports of voices speaking to him through the vents, seeing multiple women roaming the halls, and a strong compulsion to walk out the front door. Resorted to locking himself in the suite and turning on loud music until a power outage occurred. Turned in the keys the morning following night three. Refused a final interview.

Caretaker Number Three: Eunice Choi. Claimed to have a connection to the “other side” that runs in her family. Exuded a calming presence. Well-traveled with an open mind. Immediately experienced a sudden headache upon entering Hennessee House. Did not sleep night one due to pain. Reported constantly smelling eucalyptus—the exact scent of the candles she used to help her relax. Unable to sleep on night two. Reported hearing the voice of her deceased mother warning her to stay awake. Nearing sixty hours without sleep, reported specters inconsistent with previous Hennessee House activity and acute forgetfulness—deemed to be due to insomnia. Passed out in the kitchen at some point during night three. Admitted to the hospital with a diagnosis of exhaustion and severe dehydration. Reportedly does not remember anything from night three but refused to return to Hennessee House. States her “ancestors don’t want [her] there.” Has subsequently returned to good health and agreed to be a consultant as needed.

No wonder Maverick approached Lucky with protective guns blazing.

Lucky’s brain was reeling with information, processing through scenarios and proposed answers faster than she could write them down. She began pacing the room, talking into a recorder to catch it all.

This changed everything. Eunice likely had ESP. She was up-front about it, and they hired her anyway—had Lucky been wrong about NQP’s plans? What else did she and Eunice have in common? What made them different? Did Hennessee’s experience with Eunice make it change its approach?

She speculated that Hennessee hadn’t attacked Eunice so much as clashed with her. Protected by her inherited abilities, Hennessee never got access to her since she never slept. But how did it know what to use to produce a scent for her? And why did she write her name in the attic?

Writing on the wall must have created some form of binding agreement with Hennessee because everything escalated past the point of no return afterward. The inverse appeared to be true as well. Lucky resisted writing her name and the house went dormant, save for continuing to give her flowers. A gentle reminder that the offer, whatever it may be, was still on the table.

What, then, was Hennessee’s end game?

Lucky came to a sudden stop in the middle of the room and stared at the wall behind her dresser. She brought the recorder closer to her mouth and said quietly, “I think I’m seeing my first illusion? It’s in the wall, but it’s not clear. I think it looks like letters. An X? I don’t know how to do the magic eye thing—unfocusing my eyes isn’t working.”

Afraid to look away or even blink, she squinted and turned her head, holding it at different angles. It appeared exactly as Georgia said. The wood suddenly looked different, as if the grain had changed. “I think it’s definitely an X. Two intersecting slashes and there’s a curved line too. Like an S.” Strangely, she didn’t smell peppermint or feel anything at all, so if it was a message from Hennessee it might not have been a direct one.

She needed more information. Immediately. Fortunately, a gut feeling told her exactly how she could get it.

A few hours later, Lucky spied on everyone from the shadows of the staircase, creeper-mode fully activated.

They’d gathered in the sitting room again. Coworking created an astonishing kind of harmony—alone, together, noses buried in their computers. The soft clicking of their keyboards. Music from their earphones, too faint to discern but distracting enough to notice. The occasional grunt, cough, and sniffle.

Maverick sat in the sunny corner near the window, laptop balanced on his knees. Every so often, he’d pause long enough to bite his thumbnail or rub the pinched frown lines in his forehead. She didn’t realize she was smiling until she felt herself sigh like a lovesick teenager.

Lucky tapped her head against the baluster to knock some sense back into it. Terrible idea considering the lingering pain from her earlier readings, but it got the job done. Incompatible on an actual fundamental level, their romantic “future” wasn’t bleak—it didn’t have a single hope of existing. He didn’t know it yet, but he didn’t want someone like her complicating his love life. No one did.

Rebel lay in the middle of the floor, staring at the ceiling. Right where they could all see her. Poor Shortcake looked bored out of her mind while the adults busied themselves with anything but paying real attention to her.

“Psst!” Lucky waited before doing it again louder and longer. “Pssssst!”

Rebel spotted her immediately and gasped.

Lucky pressed a finger to her lips, waving her over.

“Dad, I need to go to the bathroom.” She walked out of the room, looking over her shoulder before excitedly running up the stairs. “Are you feeling better now?”

“I am. What’ve you been up to?”

“Nothing. I am so bored. I can’t film anything. I can’t go anywhere. My dad won’t stop writing and he won’t let me help yet. This is the worst last day of work ever.”

“I think I might be able to do something about that. Want to help me with a top secret project?”

A year ago, if someone told Lucky her experience being a nanny would inevitably lead to making a ten-year-old her partner in crime in a sentient house, she absolutely would’ve believed it.

Rebel cased the sitting room in record time, assessing the best angles through her camera. She secured a spot beside her dad’s chair and sat next to him. Her job entailed filming the entire room while strategically keeping Xander in frame.

Lucky flounced down the stairs to prove she was as good as new. “I have returned,” she announced and ended up lingering by the sofa, where Georgia reclined with her feet up. No one else seemed to notice her arrival.

Georgia uncovered one of her ears. “Oh, hey. Did you want to sit?”

“I’m good, thanks. But I did want to talk to everyone for a sec.”

“I got you.” Georgia typed something quickly—several chimes sounded around the room.

“When did you get here?” Chase asked, removing his earbuds. He grabbed the camera next to him, aiming it straight at Lucky. “How’s your head?”

“Just now. Back to normal.” Lucky checked in with Rebel, who gave her a thumbs-up. “I have an idea for something. It came to me while I was upstairs resting, but mostly thinking about the house. Hennessee seems to be after something that it gets from us, people, but only under specific conditions.”

Georgia grimaced. “What makes you say that?”

“During my interview, Xander said Hennessee isn’t always friendly. When I got here, Maverick said Hennessee takes a day to assess someone before deciding the best way to scare them off—a test everyone keeps failing. I think you’re both right, in a way, but we’re all viewing things through a human lens.

“Everyone sees things differently. We’re all taught that, right? Through my ability, I’ve experienced it. I know for a fact that’s true. So, why would Hennessee House be any different?” She paused to let her question breathe. “What if Hennessee House isn’t scaring people because it wants them to leave? What if it’s challenging us to stay? Its version of a litmus test.”

“Okay,” Stephen said. “I’m following, but why would it do that?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she admitted. “I believe it values fear in ways that we don’t.”

“Then why hasn’t it tried to scare you?” Georgia countered.

Lucky barely caught her surprised grin before it erupted on her face. She anticipated Xander asking that question. But Georgia came in hot, proving once again she was as quick as everyone else. “Because Hennessee lost interest in me when I didn’t write my name on the wall on my third night,” she lied. “I didn’t agree to take the test, but now there’s someone in the house again who did.”

All eyes turned to Xander. Impassive as ever, nothing in his stance indicated she’d caught him off guard. He was far too good at being secretive for that. She hoped Rebel’s footage might say otherwise.

She continued, “I’d like to hold a little experiment. If Hennessee reacts to Xander being here at night, then it proves the wall is the key. Writing your name guarantees continued supernatural activity that will escalate in intensity for as long as you remain in the house. Otherwise, Hennessee just…allows you to stay, peacefully and mostly unbothered.”

Lucky outlined the four integral steps she’d come up with thus far:

One—Subject falls asleep, granting Hennessee access to their mind.

Two—Subject experiences events that confirm they are susceptible to Hennessee’s influence. Can include general body discomfort, scents, illusions, and hijacking.

Three—Subject will be guided to the attic to write their name on the wall.

Four—Hennessee begins using specters to scare the living bejesus out of Subjects to weed out the weak like it’s a game.

“You,” Georgia began slowly, as she tilted her head to the side. “You make dumb decisions, but I had a feeling that was an act. You’re actually a lot smarter than I thought you were.”

“Georgia, really?” Chase asked, clearly exasperated.

“I’m gonna choose to take that as a compliment,” Lucky said with a laugh, before flowing back into the momentum she built. “For the experiment, Xander will be the post-wall control. Through him, we find out what happens next. Will the house keep trying to scare someone forever or is it only a temporary means to its true desire? Because I believe the litmus test is only the beginning. Hennessee has more secrets to discover, but no one’s gotten that far yet.”

Xander’s jaw tensed as he stared at Lucky. He crossed his arms and audibly huffed through his nose before looking away.

“That means he’s in,” Georgia explained, sounding impressed.

“Stephen?”

“Yes, Lucky?” He was already grinning.

“I need you to be the new sleeper—a mock caretaker number five on their first night. I want to see what happens.”

“Okay.”

“No, not okay, Stephen.” Georgia glared at him before turning back to Lucky. “Why? Explain it.”

“So far, I’ve been the only caretaker who’s had a vastly different experience,” Lucky said, happy to oblige. “My first night I followed the rules, stayed in the suite, and Hennessee gave me a flower—it’s still giving me flowers. That alone is a clear deviation from its usual MO, most likely because of its previous failures. Everyone kept leaving too quickly. I think it hoped I would see it as friendly, which I have, and although I haven’t left, I didn’t write my name on the wall. It still hasn’t gotten what it really wants. Another failure.”

Because the house still very much wanted Lucky in the attic. The compulsion was subtle, but she felt it continuously. Even now.

“You’re thinking it’ll try something else again?” Stephen asked. “Still okay, by the way. I’ve been rooting for you since day one.”

Lucky laughed. “The house adapts and changes based on its experiences. If its core value is fear, I believe it will return to being silent and unfriendly. You won’t get a gift tonight.”

Maverick said, “Lucky, you also claimed ‘almost nothing’ scares you while in the house. Repeatedly. That could’ve been what triggered it to try a different approach instead of randomly deciding to be friendly. Your confidence changed its mind.”

Lucky held Maverick’s gaze. In that moment, she knew he wasn’t only talking about Hennessee House. “That’s very possible.”

Except one fear in particular would be right up Hennessee’s haunted alley. Her guess was the house hadn’t found it yet because her memory palace was too massive, and she kept that fear hidden for her own protection. It might also explain why she continued to sleep so deeply beyond the first night, unlike the other caretakers. Hennessee was still having the time of its life in her head.

Rebel added, “When it looked in your brain, it thought, Oh no! She was telling the truth! My grandma says all girls deserve pretty flowers. Maybe the house thinks that too.”

“I don’t think the house cares about gender, Shortcake. I believe the flowers hold personal meaning for Hennessee and it tried to share that with me,” Lucky said.

“How did you come to that conclusion?” Xander asked suddenly.

“Educated guess.” She grinned. Interesting how that was the only topic he deigned to comment on so far. “My experiment also requires a third person. I’d like to see what happens when someone is here at night, on their first night, but does not sleep. I believe the house will do everything it can to lure them into doing so, thereby solidifying sleep assessment as the vital first step. It’ll also provide a contrasting set of data to pair with the sleeper.”

And Eunice.

“Oh, I see,” Georgia said. “And just who exactly are you thinking could be lucky number three?”

Lucky faltered under Georgia’s smug stare, changing course to ask, “Any volunteers?”

“Respectfully, no fucking way.” Georgia held up her hands, and then conceded, “I’m in favor of the experiment, though. It just might solve our production problems.”

Chase said, “I’ll end up falling asleep. Hennessee will start whispering sweet nothings and I’ll be out like a light. Unless I swap with Stephen? He can stay awake, and I’ll be the sleeper?”

Lucky bit her lip while pretending to consider his offer. “Well.” She held her breath, trying to not look hopeful. She’d wanted Maverick there from the moment she’d thought of the plan. She wanted to do this with him backing her up for real. They locked eyes again.

“I’ll do it,” Maverick said immediately, as if he’d been waiting for her.

“Of course you will,” Georgia muttered.

“We’re spending the night?!” Rebel’s jaw dropped.

“No, I am,” Maverick said. “You’re staying at Uncle Max’s house.”