I watch Caelum leave, seething just a bit. He's commandeered my room, ignored every reasonable attempt at haunting, and somehow managed to make me feel invisible. That's not supposed to happen; I'm a ghost. Invisibility is my thing.

Maxwell, my eternally proper ghostly companion, appears through the wall to my left, bowing slightly as he floats toward me.

"Visitors still here, I see," he remarks, casting a disdainful glance toward the hallway. Maxwell's been here even longer than I have, haunting the manor for decades before I came along. I like to imagine he was some Victorian butler, stiff and upright, who probably perished in the middle of polishing a doorknob or whatever it is butlers do.

"'Moved in' is more like it," I reply, feeling my temper simmering. "They've claimed my bedroom, Maxwell. They even put new sheets on the bed."

He raises a brow. "How dreadful, miss. Sheets."

I give him a glare, half-joking, half-serious. "Don't mock me. They have no respect for the dead, Maxwell. And Caelum walks through me constantly—it's rude."

Maxwell's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Perhaps he's unsettled, miss. He does seem a trifle...odd."

"Odd, yes," I agree, crossing my arms. "Odd and oblivious. They all are. Did you hear them downstairs? Ash practically admitted to eating someone for breakfast, and I still have no idea what sort of monsters they are. They're a mix of normie and nightmare, and not one of them can even hear me." I pause, glancing at Maxwell. "You don't suppose...one of them could?"

"Highly unlikely, miss. In my experience, living beings tend not to bother with the spectral." He straightens, looking far too satisfied with himself. "Present company excluded, of course."

"Right." I narrow my eyes at him, then drift through the wall and out into the hall, Maxwell trailing behind me like some spectral butler determined to keep an eye on his troublesome ward.

But before I make it to the stairs, Caelum reappears, striding down the hall. I move aside reflexively, then stop myself. Why should I move? This is my house, my domain. Let him walk around me.

He doesn't, of course, and walks right through me again, his shoulder brushing what used to be my arm. I shudder as that strange, electric sensation zips through me, like a jolt to the ghostly system.

"Stop doing that!" I yell, even though I know he can't hear me.

Maxwell raises an eyebrow as Caelum continues on, unaware. "Perhaps he'll leave soon," Maxwell says, though we both know it's a slim hope. "Most tend to, after a few weeks. The drafts, the eerie sounds, the...presence...does tend to put people off."

"Right. But these guys? They're not exactly a normal 'move in and set up shop' sort." I watch Caelum disappear down the stairs, then glance at Maxwell. "They're planning something. I just don't know what."

I hover for a moment, unsure, then follow Caelum downstairs. Maxwell trails behind me, tutting like an exasperated schoolteacher.

When I reach the bottom, I find Caelum in the living room with the others, all of them standing in a loose circle, talking in low voices. I drift over, hovering just outside their circle, trying to catch pieces of their conversation.

"...doesn't seem like a normal haunting," Lorcan is saying, his tone clipped and businesslike. "If there's a presence here, it's not following typical patterns."

"See?" I say to Maxwell, floating close enough that I'm practically in Lorcan's face. "They're talking about me."

The group pauses, and I see a flicker of something in Caelum's expression—a hint of wariness, a shadow of doubt. I smirk, satisfied, and lean closer.

"I am right here," I say slowly, enunciating each word. "Maybe if you actually acknowledged my existence, we could get along." Doubtful.

None of them react, but Maxwell gives me a sidelong look. "Miss Synthia, I doubt they can hear you."

"Oh, they feel me, though." I drift over to the table in the corner, focusing on a small vase resting near the edge. Concentrating hard, I reach out with all my spectral might and tip it just a fraction. It wobbles once, twice, then clatters to the floor, shattering into pieces.

Ash, the one with the smirk and attitude, jerks back, muttering, "What the—"

I beam, folding my arms as I drift back, a small satisfaction warming my chest. Finally, a reaction. I look to Maxwell. "Did you see that, Maxwell, my powers are growing."

"Yes, miss."

Lorcan, of course, just frowns, reaching down to pick up the shards. "Odd," he says, like he's commenting on the weather. "Could be residual energy from the portal."

I let out a sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "Residual energy? I am right here. They did not just call me residual."

I float closer to Lorcan, watching him, noting the way his eyes flicker over the broken vase as if it's a puzzle he intends to solve. Caelum, meanwhile, is watching me—or, well, he's watching through me, his gaze narrowed, as if he's trying to catch something in the corner of his vision.

And for a brief, exhilarating moment, I think he might actually see me.

But then he blinks, shakes his head, and turns away, dismissing whatever he thought he saw. Dismisses me.

Frustration boils up, hot and simmering. I reach out again, this time knocking a book off the shelf, letting it fall with a thud onto the carpet. It's petty, I know, but there's a strange satisfaction in seeing them move, just a little, in response.

"We'll need to do a full sweep," Caelum says, his voice low. "Figure out if this house is harboring any...other entities."

"Oh, I'm an entity now?" I mutter, hovering a few feet above his head. "Good to know I've been demoted to 'entity' status."

Maxwell, hovering by my side, gives me a faintly disapproving look. "Perhaps subtlety, miss."

"Subtlety isn't getting me anywhere," I grumble.

I watch as the group gathers their things and moves toward the kitchen, talking about cleansing rituals and wards and other nonsense that clearly won't work on me. I'm no residual energy, no "lingering presence." I'm stuck here damnit, whether I like it or not. I've been here long enough that this place, every creak and shadow, is as much a part of me as I am of it.

And if they think they can banish me with a few candles and a bit of salt, they're in for a very long, very frustrating surprise.