Dear Mum, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for whatever I did to make you give me up for adoption. I love my family but they're not mine. Not really. Please reply this time. It breaks my heart to think you may not reply to my letter. There's so much I need to know about you and my real family.

The words stood there in a pretty pink gel pen, written in Bethany's handwriting. Well, that said it all. It confirmed what Charlotte had been told, but deep inside her, the sadness grew. Everything she knew was a lie. And there it was written down for her to see.

Charlotte dropped to the bed, as the tears ran down her face. She felt sick to her stomach, such huge news but for all she knew, she was the last to know. She assumed Bella knew, and Mum and Dad did, but what about everyone else? Her aunt and uncles, her cousins, Clem? Did Clem know? There was only really one way to find out.

Charlotte shoved the diary under her arm. Carefully, she opened the bedroom door. She looked to the right, the coast was clear. She looked to the left and darted down the corridors in the direction of her bedroom.

Time passed slowly as Charlotte sat cross-legged on top of her bed. The heavy photograph album lay open on the covers as carefully she turned each page. She looked longingly at the images taken during fun family holidays and day trips. There were a few old school photos of the girls when they were younger, and one of Charlotte as she lay in hospital all those years ago. Her lips turned slightly up at the corners as she looked at a picture in front of her. The young girl in the image looked back, the grin across her face as wide and as bright as the sun. Charlotte felt a connection to her, and the closer she gazed at the image the more similarities between herself and her mother as a teenager, she began to notice.

It was their eyes that Charlotte first noticed, the roundness of them with the thick dark lashes that held the appearance of too much mascara. Even the thin laughter lines that started at an early age, both Charlotte and her mum had both. She turned the page to one of Bella, and the same similarities were present. Thinking back to her dad's side of the family, Charlotte managed to recall something her aunt Anne said to her a long time ago.

'Greyson by name and grey by hair' That was what Aunt Anne always said.

At fifteen Bella found her first grey hairs, by eighteen she'd found some more. Charlotte knew that it wouldn't be long before she too was reaching for the hair dye.

The curse of the Greyson's.

But Bethany's hair was still the same rusty rouge it always had been, and free from the curse.

Charlotte sat alone in her room with just her thoughts for company. High in her private quarters on the first floor she could just about hear the muffled voices that echoed up from the dining hall below. They sat around on their high-backed chairs, sharing loving tales of Bethany as a child, and as a teenager with all her life laid out in front of her. Hearing the sound of the chatter and knowing what she knew, Charlotte didn't feel like participating. For all she knew, she was the last to know. She felt as if they laughed at her and had done so for many years.

"Look there goes Charlotte, she still doesn't know her sister is adopted!"

A cold shudder crept down her spine as she pictured the faces of the girls at her old school. She could hear them laughing and jeering at her, poking fun at her for a more serious reason than not having the right trainers, or for taking months of school for not being well.

'Ha ha ha ha'

Their riotous cackles seeped through her mind as if she could hear them. Wait... there they were again. This time they were as loud as if their voices whispered through the castle's ancient walls, and as clear as if they were in the room.

Charlotte felt her heart skip a beat. Sweat seeped through her hair coating her forehead with a clammy shimmer. She flung herself off her bed. Her steps quickened against the carpeted floor as she headed out of her room. The sound of the bedroom door as it slammed shut shook the paintings on the wall.

She stood for a moment. Her back pressed against the bedroom door. Charlotte inhaled deeply, then exhaled sharply as she struggled to control the rapid breath. But the voices, the laughter, the giggling, continued. She plugged her fingers inside her ears and for that moment all she could hear was silence.

Charlotte found herself chanting aloud, repeating the words over and over again. "I can't hear you! I can't hear you!"

"Charlotte..."

She opened her eyes and moved her fingers out of her ears. Her mum stood in front of her, a look of sorrow and confusion etched upon her face. She pushed a stray strand of Charlotte's hair out of her eyes and placed her warm hands on her shoulders.

Charlotte could feel her heart pounding inside her chest. It felt so strong that she thought she was about to faint.

"Charlotte?" Mum spoke again, but Charlotte felt as if she didn't hear her, and as she said her name again, her voice just sounded like white noise, a distant blur.

"No!"

Charlotte's hands quickly began to tremble like fallen leaves. She stepped away from her mother, moving further down the corridor and in the opposite direction.

Mum moved forward at a pace, and deep down lines gradually appeared across her forehead. "What's the matter?"

"You think it's all funny, don't you? You're all laughing at me. You must think it's so funny. Look at poor Charlotte, always the last to know."

Instead of moving towards her, Mum stayed still.
"Always the last to know what?"

"About my own family, why we're here and not in Cambridge! Why did you tell me all my life that Bella and Bethany were my sisters' when you damn well knew the truth. I bet you all did."

"Charlotte, you're worrying me now. The truth about what?"

"Bethany!"

There, she'd said it, she'd shouted it. The colour of her mother's complexion drained from her skin. Her blue eyes widened so large they looked as if they were about to pop out of their sockets.

"Oh." Mum shook her head, "Please, please darling not today of all days."

And with that, she turned to leave. Charlotte stood and watched as her mother headed back down the stairs and away from the awkward questions that Charlotte needed answering.

Footsteps pounded the stairs as Clem headed down the small flight of stairs that led up to one of the tower rooms. In all the time the family had lived at Castle Stone, the tower rooms were still waiting to be explored.

"What the actual fuck has just happened?!" Clem exploded, just as she always did.

"Mum's a liar, Dad's a liar, oh and Bethany, she's not my sister. She's not your cousin. You know what Clem, she's not related to any of us and my parents kept that a secret."

"Oh wow. That's a big secret to keep. If she's adopted them surely her real parents have a right to know..."

Charlotte paused for a moment as the reality of her cousin's words gradually sunk in.

"That she's dead... They're her family, they need to know." She stopped speaking for a second, as she struggled to take in all of the information she'd heard that day, "but how? I mean I don't know who they are or where they are or even why Bethany was adopted in the first place."

"Then we'll find them. We'll find out everything we need to know," Clem replied. She reached forward and grabbed Charlotte by this arm, as she pulled her back towards the stairs. "Follow me, there's some people I'd like you to meet."

Charlotte followed Clem down the corridors and through the door that led up towards the tower room. Her hand still trembled as she gripped the old rope bannister. Her footsteps echoed loudly with every step she took on the stone staircase.

She stopped.

The voices spoke again. They were the same whispers of joyous laughter that echoed through her room.

Charlotte stopped and turned.
"Clem I can't."

"Can't what?"

"Sorry, but I can't do this."

"Trust me, this will explain everything." Clem's tone dropped to a reassuring calmness, and Charlotte found herself following her cousin further up the stairs.

As Charlotte's foot met the top of the landing, Clem stood by the old wooden door.
"Now this may seem weird, and it may be a bit scary for you, but all this stuff that's been happening to you will make sense. You can see ghosts, Char, you're like me. Now come and meet my new friends."

Deep frown lines embedded themselves on Charlotte's forehead as Clem reached for the doorknob. Gradually, as it turned, the voices became louder and clearer but instead of feeling as if they were inside her head, she realised they were in the tower room.

As Charlotte pushed the door open, the ancient floorboards creaked, its loud sound echoed through the room. It felt as if she'd stepped back in time, but to which century, she struggled to tell. With every movement she took, a cloud of dust escaped up and into the atmosphere, that hinted of old stale air. Sun rays reflected upon each particle creating a sombre-like glitter. The door closed behind her, and a buzz of voices filled the spacious room as stepped inside. Its walls were round and its floor was old and dusty.

Several old tatty pieces of furniture stood around the vast space, and an old chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling. It was a sight she never thought she'd see in her own home.

They looked like something straight out of a Jane Austin novel. Two ladies stood engrossed in conversation, their skin and clothes appeared almost transparent like a whisper in the darkness. Silence fell as Clem clapped her hands. The ladies stopped talking and turned their attention to her. Clem looked at Charlotte, and then again at the women.

"Charlotte," she said, "meet our ancestors, Lady Mary Greyson, and her daughter, Miss Gracie."

The first appeared not many years older than Charlotte herself, maybe seventeen but certainly younger than twenty. The young woman, Gracie, was slim and tall, with a slight hourglass shape to her figure. Although secretly Charlotte wished she looked like that, her liking for smoky bacon crisps and chips covered in melted cheese was far too strong for her to resist. She remembered reading about Victorian fashion for a history project at school once, and knowing how uncomfortable whalebone corsets appeared made her feel more comfortable in her skin.

Not a single line burdened Gracie's perfect porcelain complexion, but dark bags of sadness clung to her eyes. Her dark hair was neatly styled behind her head, and two braided loops draped around her ears that were tied into the bun at the back. The short sleeves of her pure white dress were puffed at the shoulder and the skirt fell just below her ankles, and over her pastel blue slippers.

The second, Lady Mary was an older lady, closer to forty than her teens. Fine lines covered her forehead and around the corners of her deep blue eyes. She styled her hair similar to that of her daughter, neatly and out of the way. The more she looked at the lady in front of her, the more Charlotte began to see hints of the Greyson woman. Lady Mary's broad forehead narrowed at the chin, just like Charlotte's own face, that of her grandma Araminta, and Aunt Anne. The familiarity continued and she couldn't help but notice several identical features.

"You... you look like my aunt..." Charlotte stuttered as she looked at the lady through widened eyes. Her attention shifted from Mary to Gracie, "you both do."

Charlotte tucked a stray strand of dark hair back behind her ear. She could feel her legs tremble slightly, and she put an arm out to steady herself as she made her way towards an empty chair. She gripped the arms tightly, and gradually lowered herself into the seat. She inhaled deeply. A whiff of dust caught her nose, which caused her to sneeze loudly. Charlotte pulled down the sleeve of her jacket and wiped her nose on it.

Lady Mary's mouth dropped open, emitting a horrendous shriek. With a trembling hand, she pointed at Charlotte, while the other clutched her open mouth. "Call yourself a Greyson? You're nothing more than a slubberdegullion. Dear me, what has this family come to?"

Clem spoke loudly, and clearly, but with a flow of authority in her voice. "Lady Mary, no! Manners in modern times aren't as important as they were all those years ago. You can't smell the dampness or the dust here, but we can. I'm sure Charlotte will remember to bring a tissue with her next time."

Charlotte nodded, but Lady Mary's gaze remained transfixed upon her.

"What," Lady Mary began, "brings you here?"

A frosty shiver ran down Charlotte's back. Although she'd met spirits before this was the first time she'd been face-to-face with her past. Instead of replying, she left it to Clem who she thought had built up a rapport.

"We were wondering if you'd be able to help us." Clem started

"I'm listening..."

"Do you remember me telling you about my cousin?"

Lady Mary nodded, "I mean she sits in my chair beside you. You did only mention her a moment or two ago."

"No, no, Lady Mary. I have three cousins. Bella, Charlotte, and... Bethany." Clem paused for a moment and gave a long sigh.

As Charlotte listened she felt as if she were watching her cousin bang her head against the wall. "My sister passed away. I want to know if she's here."

With the grace of an older swan, Lady Mary sauntered towards the two girls. Charlotte watched in awe as she slowly sat on a nearby chair.

"Bethany's here."

The rosy hint to Charlotte's complexion drained, whatever she ate earlier in the day stirred inside her. Its grip on her stomach and throat tightened. Her voice fell to almost a silent whisper.

"Where is she?"

If a ghost could look stunned, then Lady Mary was that. She looked across at Charlotte through wide blue eyes and slowly shook her head. If what little colour was left in her face could pale anymore, then at that moment it would. Her hand reached across towards Charlotte's knee and hovered for a moment as if unable to fully make contact.

"My dear, she's here now. With us."

Fine lines deepened across Clem's forehead, which knitted into a frown, as she widened her eyes she shook her head.
"Where? I've been seeing spirits since last summer. I can see you and Grace, and most of the others. But I can't see Bethany."

Lady Mary gave an elongated sigh and straightened her back in the chair.
"You, and Charlotte, are ghost whisperers. Due to the fact you've both had a near-death experience when you were younger, it's left you with abilities not many people have. It's a gift, but it's also a curse. Although you can see me, and most of us here, Bethany is newly departed so she's not visible to you yet." She paused for a moment, "I do apologise. I thought you were aware of that?"

Charlotte shook her head, "No, I thought if I could see one ghost I could see them all. Why can't I see her? She's my sister. It's not fair!"

"I was shot down during the Boxing Day hunt, my girl. Don't talk to me about what's not fair. I don't suppose either of you young ladies know that you can only see a ghost if they want you to see them."

"Really?"

"Yes. We decide when you see us and we only have that ability when we've been dead for at least fifty years. And Bethany hasn't."

"Oh great!" Charlotte sighed, "So when I'm a grandma in my sixties then I'll be able to see her again?"

"I'm sorry, Charlotte," Mary continued, "but it doesn't work like that. You see we all have unfinished business. Until it's complete we can't move on. Bethany has unfinished business. That's why she's here and isn't up there where she can rest in peace."

Charlotte thought for a moment, so many questions flew around her mind. She didn't have a clue where to start. What was more important, asking how her sister was coping, or something else?

"Does everyone turn to ghosts"

"No, they don't. Only those who have unfinished business in life will be granted time to complete it after death."

"So Bethany's here?" Charlotte began, "actually here now?"

Lady Mary nodded in agreement.

"What's her unfinished business? I mean can you ask her?"

"No. I can not. It is neither my place to know nor my place to ask. When Bethany wants you to know she will tell you in her way."

As the time bled from afternoon to evening, and knowing she wasn't getting anywhere with Lady Mary, Charlotte turned to leave. She headed out of the small room and quietly closed the door behind her as she ventured down their stairs. From a distance, she couldn't help but notice something outside her bedroom door.

That's odd

As she walked down the corridor, she stopped for a moment outside her room. She looked down and noticed a brown envelope on the carpet outside the door to her room. Charlotte bent down and picked it up.

To Charlotta, this will help you. All my love A x