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CHAPTER SEVEN

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C

AMILLE PULLED HER coat tighter against the icy morning, regretting not having taken her father up on the offer to drive her the whole way to school. But she’d wanted to speak to Grace before they got caught up in all the first-day mayhem, worried that she may have driven off her new friend before setting foot through the school gates. She jogged across the road when she saw Grace waiting for her in front of the bookstore. Grace gave her a little wave before quickly shoving her gloved hands back in her pockets.

“Hey,” Camille said as she stepped in beside her, smiling with relief.

“Hey. So, who was lurking outside your room last night if it wasn’t McAllister?” Grace asked as they walked. “I thought you said they were the only other people in the house. Was it a ghost?”

“Wow. Straight into it!” Camille replied, trying to smile though she wasn’t really joking.

“Sorry,” Grace said. “I was just thinking about it all night. She kind of freaked me out.”

“Freaked you out? How do you think I felt being told there was someone outside my room?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It just gave me a shock.”

“What exactly did you see?” Camille asked, wanting more clarification even though she knew deep down Grace had seen her mystery woman.

“It’s hard to say, exactly. It was so quick. I only really saw the top half of her with the hallway so dark. She just clasped her hands together in front. Really pale against the long black sleeves. Buttons up the front of the dress. At least, I’m assuming it was a dress, with a high collar. Like a white lace or something around the neck. White hair in a bun. I don’t even recall much about her face. But she was... glaring at me right through the phone. Like she could actually see me. That’s all I saw.”

For a long time, neither of them said anything else as they walked.

“So... you’ve seen her before?” Grace prompted.

Camille nodded. “A few times. Only the first time was really clear. It was my first night at the manor.”

“Ugh...” Grace shuddered. “That is so creepy. And totally cool.”

“How is it cool?”

“Well, it’s like a ghost of LeRoux Manor’s past seeking out the modern generation to connect with us. I mean, it’s clearly a ghost, right?” Whatever fear Grace had had, it was rapidly replaced by enthusiasm for her theory.

“Yeah, I guess so. She looks so real, though, doesn’t she?”

“What did you expect a ghost to look like?” Grace asked.

Camille shrugged, “Honestly, I have no idea. I guess I always thought they’d be more... I don’t know. Transparent?”

“Hmm... Who do you think she is?”

“No idea. I haven’t seen her in any of the pictures I’ve found so far.”

“Have you had a look in the book you bought yet? There’s bound to be something in there.”

Camille nodded. “Good idea. I haven’t had the chance to have a proper look at it yet. I’ll check it out as soon as I get home.” They put the topic of the woman on hold as they met Jayne, Jonathan, and Lachlan at the front of the school.

“Ready for your first day?” Jonathan asked as he reached for Grace’s bag.

Camille smiled with as much confidence as she could muster. “Sure. Starting senior year in a new school at the wrong time of year, and as the town freak, no less... This is going to be awesome.” Her new friends laughed, and Grace reassuringly slipped her arm through Camille’s, leading her toward the gate.

“Welcome to senior year, my friends!” Jonathan declared as they entered Woodville High together.

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“ARE YOU GOING TO TELL the others what happened last night?” Camille asked Grace as they left their double period of Advanced English.

“It’s not really my place to tell them. I mean, it’s your house. Your family history. We don’t keep secrets, but I know you just met us. I get it if you need some time to get to know us better before telling everyone. On the other hand, some fresh perspective might be a good thing.”

“Hmm...” Camille’s parents hadn’t believed her when she’d told them. What if her new friends thought she was crazy? But Grace was the one who saw her, she reminded herself.

Grace led her to a table outside where the others were already waiting for them at a picnic table under a beautiful old tree. “How’s your first day of school treating you?” Jayne asked, though she eyed Lachlan instead of looking at Camille.

“Pretty good,” Camille replied. “Just trying to learn my way around the place.”

“What class do you have after lunch?” Grace asked as she sat beside Jonathan. Sitting on the bench opposite her, Camille pulled the folded piece of paper from her pocket and opened it up. “Uh, double history.”

“Same as me. We can sit together if you like,” Lachlan suggested quietly.

When Camille looked up at him, she caught Jayne’s gaze darting frantically between her and Lachlan. “Uh, sure. Thanks.” Then she looked away. Something lightly tapped her shoe, and she found Grace staring at her with a raised eyebrow and the slightest hint of a smile. Camille took a deep breath and slipped her timetable back into her pocket. “There’s something we thought we should share with you guys...”

“We?” Jayne asked, scowling at Lachlan.

“Me and Grace.” She couldn’t help but smile as Jayne visibly relaxed.

“Last night after dinner,” Grace started, “I Face-Timed Camille...”

“I was showing her around my room, and she... saw someone in the hallway.”

“Someone who shouldn’t have been there.” Both Grace and Camille looked expectantly at the group.

“Wait. What do you mean someone who wasn’t supposed to be there?” Jonathan asked. “Do you mean like someone broke in?”

“Not exactly,” Camille replied.

“Woah... Are you saying you saw a ghost?” Lachlan leaned forward in his enthusiasm.

“We think so,” Camille said. “I didn’t see her. I was too busy looking around to show Grace my room. But Grace got a good look.”

“She was old-fashioned-looking,” Grace explained. “But so vivid. At least from what I could see, which was just from the waist up. I thought there really was someone standing there in the hallway.”

“That sounds...” Jayne whispered.

“What did she look like?” Lachlan demanded. “What exactly happened?”

Camille and Grace did their best to recount the brief experience. “I also saw her that vividly my first night in the manor,” Camille added. “I’m pretty sure I saw her a few other times. Like in my wardrobe. Sometimes, I think I see her out of the corner of my eye or in a reflection.”

“Bloody hell, that’s intense,” Jonathan stated with a shake of his head.

“I knew there was something paranormal going on in that place,” Lachlan added. “Why the wardrobe?”

“I have no idea. Weird, right? My Dad checked it and reckoned there’s no way anyone could just disappear in there, but I know what I saw.”

“Well, if she’s a ghost, then of course she could,” Jonathan stated.

“Seems like a pretty random object for a ghost to be attached to,” Jayne said, obviously quite eager to participate.

“You’re telling me...” Grace replied kindly.

“Have you experienced anything else?” Jonathan asked.

Camille paused, looking down at her hands. “Before I saw her the last time, I had this weird dream. Only it felt so real. I was up in the attic, and I found an old trunk. It was locked, but then out of nowhere, a key skidded across the floor toward me. There was something about the trunk... when I opened it... it felt like déjà vu. Like it belonged to me or something. I know it was only a dream, but I just haven’t been able to shake it.”

“Have you looked for the trunk?” Grace asked. “Maybe the dream was trying to tell you something.”

Camille looked up in surprise. “No, I haven’t. I didn’t actually think that it might be real.”

Grace shrugged. “You never know.”

“That would be so cool if it was...” Jonathan added.

“You should document it,” Lachlan suggested. “Everything you see and experience. Like a blog or something. It would be awesome.”

Camille glanced at him, wondering why he seemed so enthusiastic about her experiences at the manor when he’d barely said two words about anything else.

“That would be pretty cool,” Grace agreed. “Part of the blog could focus on trying to work out who the woman is and what she wants. They say ghosts haunt places for a reason, right?”

Camille shrugged. “I guess so.” Suddenly, she felt reluctant about all of it. It was one thing to tell her new friends, but did she really want to put it out there for the whole world to see?

“At least have a think about it,” Grace said. “You don’t have to decide right away.” Her smile clearly indicated she loved the idea.

“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” Camille replied with a small smile, grateful when the boys changed the subject to that afternoon’s basketball practise.

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“I HEAR WE have a LeRoux in our class!” exclaimed Mr Ostervic as he entered the classroom, dropping his bag on the desk and facing the students. Camille slid down into her seat, feeling the hot flush of mortification rush from her chest up into her face.

“I TOLD YOU...” LACHLAN whispered with a grin.

“Camille LeRoux, raise your hand, please.” Mr Ostervic scanned the room, looking for the new face. Camille slowly raised her hand as all eyes turned on her. “Don’t worry. I won’t do anything embarrassing like make you stand up and introduce yourself. Though I will say it’s exciting to have a young LeRoux in our midst.”

Camille mustered a small smile as she lowered her hand and cringed in her seat. Lachlan chuckled softly beside her, the unexpected sound a welcome distraction from her embarrassment. It sent a flutter of nerves through her. “Now,” Mr Ostervic continued, turning to the whiteboard behind his desk and picking up a marker, “it’s the first day of your senior year and the perfect time to give you your major assignment.” The glass groaned. Stepping aside, Mr Ostervic revealed the project on the board: ‘Family Tree’.

“Is he serious?” Camille whispered to Lachlan, but he didn’t respond. He just stared at the board. She noticed his tight grasp on the pen in the palm of his hand, and she frowned with equal parts worry and intrigue.

“I want a comprehensive family tree, starting with your immediate family and working back from there for as far as you can. I appreciate some of you won’t be able to travel as far back as others, but I expect your full efforts on this. The project will make up fifty-percent of your final grade.” A second groan swept over the classroom, and Mr Ostervic smiled at Camille. “Now, given the enormity of the task, you will work together in pairs. To make it easier for you, the person you’re currently sharing a desk with will be your research partner for the duration of the assignment.” Camille snuck a sideways glance at Lachlan. Jayne’s going to kill me.

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CAMILLE FELT FORTUNATE that she hadn’t faced a single class without at least one of her new friends alongside her. Yet she couldn’t help but feel a little nervous sitting beside Jayne. She wasn’t looking forward to telling her she’d been partnered with Lachlan for their history assignment. She’d been friends with the group for five minutes and certainly didn’t want to rock the boat.

“We should totally use this time to do a little research on your blog,” Jayne whispered conspiratorially.

“I haven’t said I’m going to do one yet,” Camille replied. She was finding fewer and fewer reasons not to.

Jayne dismissed her protest with a wave of her hand, then typed the words ‘LeRoux Manor’ into the search engine. Unable to hide her curiosity, Camille leaned over as much as she dared so she could see the results. “This can’t be right...” Jayne whispered.

“What?” Camille whispered back, now completely invested.

“There’s hardly any hits. An announcement about Mr LeRoux’s death, and some generic information about the Manor and when it was built and all that. But that’s pretty much it.”

“That seems odd. Maybe try a different search,” Camille suggested. “What about ‘LeRoux family’?”

Jayne typed it in and sighed. “That isn’t much better. Nothing interesting at all. No offense.”

“None taken,” Camille replied, searching the screen. “How about ‘murder at LeRoux Manor’? That’s bound to pull something up.”

“Good idea.” Jayne typed quickly, then slumped back in her chair. “You can’t be serious...” The search had returned zero hits.

“That’s impossible!” Camille explained a little too loudly, garnering herself a pointed look from the teacher. She ducked her head and lowered her voice. “I’ve seen the newspaper articles. How does the net have nothing about it?”

“That’s it,” Jayne whispered, her eyes still on the teacher. “Now you have to get the information out there. It’s a conspiracy!”

Camille shot her a sideways glance. While she didn’t agree with the conspiracy theory—yet—she did think it bizarre to fine no information online. “Okay. I’ll do it.”