Description: From Amber House Wild with relief, I turned. The attic door was closed. Jackson left it open; I know Jackson left it open. I could sense, could feel, that whoever had climbed the stairs was now standing just beyond that closed door. Standing; not moving; not speaking. Not helping. Behind me, the sound of chain sliding over wood. I felt so cold, so squeezed, I could hardly draw in breath. A tear oozed like blood from the corner of my eye. I made myself turn. I made myself look. A woman stood in the shaft of moonlight. She was all darkness to me, back-lit by the window. I could see thick curls of black hair, the curves of muscled arms, a shapeless drape of translucent gown. All motionless. A spider ran down a lock of her hair, and air escaped me in the smallest gasp. I wanted to shove my fist in my mouth to stop the scream rising in my throat.

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