Excerpt of Hargrove House by Allie Harrison

Torrie needed to see the pink room in the falling light as dusk settled over the house. Again, she looked around the room. All it needed—besides the books—was a little girl. Absently, Torrie picked up the doll that someone had placed on the dresser. She placed the doll in its rightful place at the small table. “There you go, Miss Velvet,” she said. “Now all we need to get is a little tea set. And don’t worry; we’ll have real China, none of that plastic stuff in this room. Do you take cream or sugar?” Torrie pretended.

“You found Miss Velvet.”

At the sound of a soft voice, Torrie jumped and nearly knocked the doll off the chair, let out a startled cry and looked toward the door. Then she stopped short and stared at the young girl who stood there. “Who…Who are you? And how did you get in here? Where did you come from?” Torrie knew she sounded like a balloon letting out its air, but she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. The child had startled her so badly. And damn, she looked just like the little girl Torrie envisioned could inhabit this room. With Miss Velvet in the girl’s arms, the picture Torrie saw when she walked into this room would be complete. The idea the girl could be a child fulfilling a dare touched her. Torrie tried to tell herself the girl was too young to venture into the Hargrove House on a dare. But hadn’t Torrie, herself, been about the same age when she stepped over the threshold?

Could the girl be a ghost? She wasn’t transparent. She appeared as real as Torrie. Torrie even felt a strange pull to reach out and touch the child, to see if her hair was as soft as it looked.

“Eleanor,” the little girl said. She wore what was previously a green dress. There was a smudge of dust above her left eyebrow.

Torrie took a step toward her.

The girl stayed rooted to her spot.

“Eleanor who? And how did you get in here? What, did someone dare you?”

“I live here. I’m Eleanor…Dalton.”

“What?”

Then the little girl who claimed to Eleanor Dalton turned and left.

It took Torrie eight steps to reach the doorway. And the by time she did, the hallway was empty and the little girl was gone.