Page 3 of The Internet’s Most Haunted Influencer

There were rules to this. Don’t acknowledge the dead until you’re ready to deal with them. Don’t let them know you know. Don’t let them set the terms. Don’t react in front of people who would ask questions he didn’t feel like answering.

Especially realtors.

Sandra began moving toward the room on the left. “The sitting room is through here. You’ll love the fireplace.”

Behind her, the floor creaked.

Nate wrote, roof leak? and foyer floor damage in his notebook.

The air chilled around his fingers.

“Subtle,” he muttered.

Sandra glanced back. “Sorry?”

“Nothing.” Nate followed her into the sitting room.

The sitting room was nice enough to lead potential buyers into terrible decisions. Tall windows, a marble fireplace, built-in shelving, and enough sunlight to soften all the expensive problems into atmosphere.

It was a trap.

But a very photogenic one.

And in his business, the optics mattered a lot.

Nate crossed to the fireplace and crouched in front of the hearth. The tile was cracked. The firebox looked dirty but intact from a distance, which meant nothing. He’d need a chimney inspection before trusting it with so much as a scented candle.

Sandra sounded very pleased. “This room gets beautiful afternoon light. I can already imagine it restored. Bookshelves, a deep green on the walls, maybe antique brass fixtures⁠—”

“Has the wiring been updated?”

“The sellers began some updates about twelve years ago.”

That was not an answer.

Nate looked at the outlet nearest the fireplace. The cover was new, but there was a slight scorch mark above the plate.

He wrote electrical concern.

The pressure behind his eyes pulsed.

This time, a voice came with it.

Low. Male. Angry.

“Get out.”

Nate’s pen stilled.

Hauntings came in different flavors. The vast majority of them weren’t so much sentient ghosts as residual spiritual energy. The impression of a violent death that hung around and made people feel chills. The wails of a dying mother repeated over and over. Terrifying but ultimately harmless.

This, though.

This ghost seemed to be present enough to bellow orders.

That meant power. That meant danger.

Oblivious to all this, Sandra smiled at the fireplace as if it might write her a commission check. “Lovely, isn’t it?”