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    Rattle. Rattle. Rattle. Rattle.

    Sandy groaned and pressed her pillow to her head. Betty was sound asleep next to her, having decided not to return to her own room. Sandy would be moving to the bridal suite with Danny after the wedding, and since the rattling doorknob never woke Betty, it seemed good to let her friend have this room.

    Her face ached and she wanted to get a goodnight sleep. The doorknob continued to rattle and after an hour, Sandy was no closer to rest. She got up from bed carefully, not wanting to wake her friend and went to stand by the window. The window that overlooked the cemetery the girls had messed around in the first night.

    Sandy watch as fog swirled around the tombstones. She hadn't told her parents, Danny or the other groomsmen about the place. If the other girls did Sandy didn't know. She'd meant to ask Mrs. Blanchard but the older woman was off doing some event planning for the historic society and was never home. Janet was the only one who'd seen her since the first day. She was making breakfast and the older woman popped in. Janet told her about the windows and Mrs. Blanchard quickly arranged for repairmen, but Janet hadn't asked her anything about the cemetery.

    Sandy felt a bolt of surprise go through her as she thought she saw someone walking among the tombstones. It was subtle, just the odd movement of a patch of fog in a contrary way to the rest. Sandy focused hard on the patch of fog but whatever it was she'd seen, she didn't see it again. Sighing, Sandy wrapped her arms around herself and considered trying to go to bed.

    The doorknob stopped rattling. Slowly Sandy turned her head to look, the copper knob was still. Thank God for small favors, she thought. As she was about to climb into bed, music started drifting into the room. It was coming from downstairs, muffled slightly by the closed door but she could still hear it clearly.

    Her mind went back to what Francis had claimed. That she'd heard ballroom music coming from downstairs only to find the place empty. But that wasn't what this sounded like. It was more familiar. Sandy went to the door and opened it just a crack. The music playing was from her wedding playlist. Someone was downstairs messing with the equipment.

    "What on earth," Sandy stepped out into the hallway and closed the door carefully behind her. The music wasn't blasting but in the silence of the night it seemed louder. She was surprised no one had been woken up by it yet. Why would anyone be messing with the equipment at this time of night?

    The motion activated lights of the stairs came on as she rushed downstairs. Except for those the house was dark. Quickly she rushed into the room serving as the reception hall, it was empty. But the laptop had been used recently. Only the eerie glow from the screen lit the room. Sandy flipped on the lights and made her way to the computer, only to find it shut off.

    Her eyes scanned the room, slowly. Looking for anyone who'd pull a joke like this. There weren't many places to hide, but the tables were covered by black and orange cloths that went to the floor. She walked to one table and pulled the cloth up, nothing was hiding. She repeated this with a few tables until she started to feel silly.

    If anyone in her wedding party was going to pull a joke like this her money was on Paul or possibly Sam.  Damien, much like Jan didn't believe in the supernatural so he'd be unlikely to do anything like this. Danny was a bit of a prankster but he would do something more elaborate. As for Nick, well Nick would go along with a prank but he was a man that liked his sleep, and wouldn't be awake this time of night just for a joke. And her brother, Jared, he didn't have much of a sense of humor.

    "Paul, Sam, if this is you knock it off." Silence. Sandy shut the lights off and closed the door. The music didn't start up again. Janet had made a fantastic lasagna and garlic bread for dinner, which still had a lot left over. Sandy's stomach rumbled remembering it. She decided a midnight snack would be good and went into the kitchen.

    After microwaving herself a plate, she sat at the island and pondered the mansion. It was haunted she was sure. The experiences that she and her friends had since coming here proved it. Sandy still hasn't told anyone about the transparent man that'd chased her down the lawn. Goosebumps rose on her arms just thinking about it. While that'd been scary, Sandy had come to believe the man had somehow carried her to the porch.

    At first she didn't want to believe it, it was just too creepy. But after a day of reflection she was left with no other explanation. At least he seemed friendly enough, at least she thought he was friendly. Sandy wondered if she'd see the man again before her time was up in the mansion. She didn't know if she wanted that but she felt she should at least say thank you.

    She turned her head to look out the window. She could see Mrs. Blanchard's house from here. The lights were out, of course. It looked so small compared to the grand estate. Something moved out of the corner of her eye.

    Sandy jumped to see Betty had wondered down. "Hey Sandy."

    "Hungry?" Sandy gestured to the plate in front of her.

    "Nah. I wanted something warm to drink." Her maid of honor went about obtaining her desire.

    Something caught Sandy's eye. Buried under some paper sat the journal her mother had given her. She'd been so scatter brained she must have left it here and forgot. Sandy pulled the old blue book to her as Betty took a seat by her, herbal tea in hand.

    "What's this?" Betty asked while tapping a finger on the cover.

    "Something my mom gave me. It's a journal from my great–grandmother. She and her husband had a history with this place."

    "What kind of history?"

    Sandy pulled the picture of the wedding out and showed it to her friend. Between bites of her snack, Sandy explained the story her mother told her.

    A mischievous light came into Betty's eyes. "Let's try and find the initials. Think of how sweet it'd be if Marty could take a picture of you and Danny in front of them or even just a photo of the craving."

    Sandy shook her head. "I don't know where they are and this place is huge. We have so much to do tomorrow we'd never find them in time."

    "What about the journal? It doesn't say in there?"

    "I don't know. Mom never said it did."

    "Are you sure your mom even read it?"

    Sandy tilted her head remembering the conversation with her mother. "No, she never said she did actually."

    Betty swiped the book and began skimming the pages. Sandy took her plate to the sink and washed her dishes.

    "I've got it!" Betty rushed over and began to read. "'Conor and I went to the attic. It was completely empty and we slow danced while light from the setting sun threw rainbows across the room as it shone through the stained glass window. Conor lead me to the glass mural and took out a pocket knife. He reached his arm as far as he could and carved a tiny heart into the wood. I took the knife from him and put our initials inside it. When I turned around, Conor was down on one knee with a small ring in his hand. I said yes!'"

    Sandy smiled at the story. It was sweet. But there was one problem. "There isn't a stained glass window in the attic anymore."

    "Are you sure?" Betty asked with disappointment. "I didn't see one when I was up there but I didn't stay long."

    "I'm pretty sure I'd remember one. Mom and I were up there this afternoon. She wanted to see the view from window that faces the gates."

    "Maybe it's still there but under one of those tarps or in one of the boxes. Besides just because the window's gone doesn't mean the craving is too."

    "Maybe," Sandy admitted "but I don't want to go looking for it now. I want to get to bed."

    "Yeah," Betty agreed. "We need to sleep." She closed the journal and handed it to Sandy. "But tomorrow we gotta try and find it."

    "We will."

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