The Whisper at Room 213, Baxter House, 1998

In the summer of 1998, Room 213 of Baxter House was empty except for Thomas, age nine, when his mother’s voice echoed from the unlit kitchen, calling him down. He pushed back his blanket, but a scratchy whisper slid out from under his mattress: Please, Thomas, don’t leave me alone. I’m scared too. Moonlight flickered on his bedroom floor and the mother’s voice called again-sharper, more urgent. Thomas leaned over the side of his bed. From the shadows, two white eyes blinked up at him, and a hand, thin as a spider’s leg, slid toward his bare ankle. That night, the real Mrs. Harper was found locked outside, pounding on the door.