Roger stood in the hall, holding a brass four-tapered candlestick.
“What happened to the lights?” she asked.
“The power always fails during a strong wind.”
“What do ya do about it?”
“Light a candle, go to the cellar, and check the fuse box. Wanna go along?”
“Sure.” They descended to the first floor, and Cassandra immediately knew they had company. She stopped.
“They’re here again, aren’t they?” Roger whispered, looking around the semi-dark room.
“Only one this time. Her name’s Camille, and she wants us to follow her.”
Roger waved the candles through the air looking for the spirit but saw nothing. “Why can’t I see her like I did earlier in the cellar?”
“Because this spirit wants only me to see her.”