First timer

Previously

…I hesitated, my hand on the doorknob. The journal lay open on the table behind me, its final, chilling words echoing in my mind. Eleanor Vance had not been alone in her descent. And Mr. Abernathy, with his carefully constructed facade, might be more involved than he let on. The shadows in the corner of my eye seemed to stretch, to deepen, as if waiting for my next move. The house held its breath.