"Ann!"

A horrified gasp escaped from deep within my throat as I sat up in bed. I was in my bedroom and had the covers up to my stomach. I remembered pulling the covers to my chin, so seeing them where they were scared the crub out of me.

Everything - including the people - caused me to be a nervous wreck. I did not want to be an Archer. I did not want to be related to psychopaths who justified murdering hundreds of innocent kids. I have never been this scared before. It was out of my character. I was usually the courageous sister between me and Annie.

Annie...I miss my little sister....

It was not until I wrapped my arms around my legs - which I was surprised that they all were cold despite that they were drenched in sweat - that I noticed that Rebecca was standing by my bed. She had a hand on my back. A concern look was plastered on her face.

"Ann," Rebecca said my name. She bent down to my level and began massaging my back. "Ann, you look terrible."

"Thanks for the compliment," I replied sarcastically.

"I am dead serious, Ann. You do not look well."

I snapped. I placed my hand on her chest and shoved her. Shoved her with the strength that I had left. She stumbled back, but kept her balance. Her expression told me that she did not like what I just did to her.

"What was that for?" Rebecca questioned. "Why did you push me?" She groaned and clutched the fabric of her shirt. "Dang. You are rough."

I was rocking back and forth and looking at her. This wave of regret washed over me. "I am sorry. I did not mean to push you like that," I choked out. "I did not mean to push you at all, Rebecca."

"Then why did you? Are you upset with me?"

"I pushed you because...you said the word 'dead.'"

She quirked an eyebrow. "So let me get this straight. You pushed me because I mentioned that word. The word 'dead.' Is that what I am hearing?"

I let out a whoosh of air. As much as I did not desire to recall such a nightmare, I needed to tell Rebecca about the dream. I stopped rocking and dangled my legs over the edge of my bed.

"I had a dream," I whispered.

"What did you say?" Rebecca asked.

"I said that I had a dream. It was about the dead."

"You dreamt about zombies invading Forlot?!"

"No. The other type of dead."

"What is there besides zombies?"

"Ghosts."

She looked as if she had just died inside and slapped her forehead. "Right. Ghosts. The monsters that you cannot see sometimes. Should have known because I am trying to get the ghosts to leave this mansion."

"They are never leaving, Rebecca. Not now. Not ever. My great-grandparents made that clear to me."

Rebecca's bottom jaw dropped. She slowly raised her arm and pointed at me with a shaking finger. "Y-you saw your great-grandparents?"

I nodded and wrapped the blankets around my body to keep me warm. "I did not just see them. I was able to talk with them."

She scratched her chin. "One of the ways that a ghost will communicate with humans is that they will enter their dreams. Miriam and Dustin must have entered your dreams."

"They said that we were in a dream...but oh my gosh. It did not feel like a dream."

Rebecca plopped next to me on the bed and took my hand into hers. I hope that you readers out there will not ship me and Rebecca.

"What happened in the dream? What did Dustin and Miriam tell you, Ann?

"I cannot remember exactly, but it was just stuff that I expected from two psychopaths."

"Did they mention anything about the dead children or the hospital?"

"When I confronted them about the kids who passed away thanks to them, they did not think that it was a huge deal."

"Of course, they did not think that it was a huge deal. Your great-grandparents care more about their own needs than the needs of others."

"Do you...?" My voice trailed off.

"Do I what?"

I hesitated. "...do you know if Dustin and Miriam did anything else? Did they cause pain to other innocent people?"

"Not that I know of, but it is a possibility."

"What about my grandparents? Were they as wicked as Miriam and Dustin?"

She stroked the back of my hand using her thumb. "I can safely say that your grandparents did not end up like them. Dustin and Miriam desperately wanted a child who would carry their lying legacy. Luckily for us, as well as the children who lost their lives, their only son did not become like them."

"Their son is my grandfather, right?"

"Correct. Your grandfather did not understand when he was younger, but as he got older, he began seeing right through them. He knew the kind of people that his parents were. He could not - and may never will - understand why his parents chose this path. Dustin and Miriam would rather be deceivers and put their friends and family down than build them up."

She let go of my hand and started kicking her legs.

"I do not believe that I told you what they did to your grandpa."

My breath caught in my throat. "What did...what did they do to Grandpa?"

"They...killed him. Almost killed him."

"I had a feeling that you were going to say something along those lines."

"They were furious at your grandpa one day when he made the good decision of abandoning the company. He also wanted to cut ties with them because of how toxic they were. They exploded with hatred. Dustin was the angriest, so he grabbed a knife nearby and stabbed his son. He stabbed your grandpa in his leg and stomach."