A stranger broke open Claire Bennett’s bedroom door—and the first thing she asked was:

The heavy sound of an engine rumble echoed through the foggy night outside the mansion, accompanied by the sweeping beams of headlights cutting through the tall pine trees.

Ethan ran to the barred transom window, peering down into the long gravel driveway. A dark Mercedes SUV had just pulled up near the front portico. Two men in black coats stepped out, carrying heavy flashlights and leather duffel bags.

"Someone's here," Ethan hissed, spinning around. "We have to move now!"

Claire didn't panic. She had spent two decades preparing for this single moment. She grabbed her canvas blanket, tied the copper key around her neck beneath her collar, and stepped over the splintered door frame into the dusty hallway.

"That's Dr. Arthur Vance's car," Claire said quietly as they hurried down the dark, grand staircase of the east wing. "He was my father's personal physician. Every six months, he came up to that room to give me injections to keep me weak... and to check if I was still breathing."

Ethan felt a surge of violent rage. "A doctor helped cover this up?!"

"He signed my death certificate twenty years ago," Claire replied as they reached the ground floor service kitchen. "Vivian bought his silence by funding his private medical clinic in Portland."

Before Ethan could respond, the heavy front doors of the mansion creaked open down the hall. Voices echoed through the cavernous foyer.

"Make it quick, Arthur," a harsh, aristocratic female voice commanded over the sound of rain lashing against the windows. "The demolition crew arrives at 7:00 AM tomorrow. I want her body moved to the incinerator behind the estate before the bulldozers tear down the east wing."

Ethan froze behind the pantry door, his hand instinctively resting on Claire's shoulder.

It was Vivian Ashford. Now sixty-two, dressed in a expensive mink coat, her silver hair pulled back in a severe bun, her voice dripping with cold, unyielding entitlement.

"Vivian, this is insane," Dr. Vance's trembling voice pleaded. "If the state inspectors find traces of human habitation in that room—"

"They won't find anything, Arthur!" Vivian snapped. "She’s been legally dead for two decades. Tonight, the ghost of Claire Bennett finally disappears for good."