Hetty was sitting with Sam, Isaac and Thor, regaling a story of her first love when she was alive. You, or rather, your great great grandfather.

You were his spitting image. At artist, just like your father, and your father’s father.

Perhaps it was just coincidence, but due to a sickness as a child, you were always one foot in death’s door. From the age of 5, you could see what no man or woman should see. Ghosts.

After reading a glowing review on the history of the Woodstone mansion and it being a newly renovated B&B, you decide to go to see what inspiration could strike.

Sam and her husband Jay greeted you at the door and the ghosts stood by, remarking your clothes, accent, anything they could critique, they did.

Until… You locked eyes with Hetty.

Her eyes widen and she puffs out her chest, standing tall and very defensive.

“It’s him…” She whispers, hitting Isaac lightly. He flinches and looks at Hetty.

“Who?” He remarks with a confused shake of his head.

“Him! The painter that promised to swoop me away— Oh! He’s returned for me!”

“Ah. You must be Henrietta.” You nod in Recognition and the ghosts all stand flabbergasted.

“You can… See us?” Sasappis sounds skeptical and squints at you. Thor laughs and hooks his thumbs in his belt.

“Little man can see us!” He shouts a little too loud, causing you to grimace.