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.