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The suitcase refused to close.
Ivy Mandell sat hard on the edge of the bed and pushed down with both hands. The zipper moved an inch—then popped open again. Her black hoodie slid out like it was trying to escape.
"Traitor," Ivy muttered.
"Wow. You're really bullying it," Kate said from the doorway.
Ivy looked up. Kate stood there with crossed arms, messy blonde hair, still in her pajamas. She looked annoyingly calm.
"You're supposed to press from the middle," Kate added. "Not like you're fighting for your life."
"I am fighting for my life," Ivy said. "This thing hates me."
Kate sighed, walked over, and knelt beside the suitcase. "Move."
Ivy shifted back. Kate pressed once, smoothly, and pulled the zipper shut in one clean motion.
Click.
"There," Kate said. "Easy."
Ivy stared at the closed suitcase. Her throat tightened. She didn't thank her.
Leaving always felt like this. Like ripping something out of her chest and pretending it didn't hurt.
Kate noticed. Of course she did.
"You don't have to come," she said softly. "I can handle it. It's just babysitting."
"I'm not staying here alone," Ivy snapped, too fast, too sharp. Then quieter: "There's nothing left here."
Kate didn't argue. She just nodded. "Okay. Then let's go."
The drive felt wrong from the start.
Ivy leaned her forehead against the cold car window. Buildings disappeared. Streets turned into narrow roads. Narrow roads turned into dirt. Trees crowded closer, their branches twisting together overhead.
Her phone buzzed once—then died.
"Great," Ivy muttered. "We're officially off the map."
Kate glanced at her. "Relax. I've got directions."
"Printed directions," Ivy said flatly.
"Hey," Kate defended. "They worked in the old days."
The sky darkened, even though it was barely afternoon. Clouds rolled in thick and low, swallowing the light.
Kate hummed to herself, some quiet tune Ivy didn't know.
"Can you not do that?" Ivy asked.
Kate stopped. "Do what?"
"Hum. It's creepy."
Kate smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "You're jumpy."
"I'm realistic."
The car slowed.
And then—
Bly Manor appeared.
It rose out of the trees like it had been waiting. Stone walls. Tall windows. Vines crawling up the sides like veins. The iron gate creaked open as they approached, the sound low and tired.
Ivy's stomach twisted.
"Wow," Kate whispered. "Okay. That's… big."
"It looks like it watches people," Ivy said.
Kate laughed nervously. "You always say that about houses."
"This one actually does."
Kate parked. The engine died. Silence rushed in.
Before they reached the door, it opened.
A woman stepped out, small but steady. Gray hair pulled back. Kind face. Sharp eyes.
"You must be Kate," she said. "I'm Mrs. Grose. Welcome."
Her gaze slid to Ivy. Just for a second.
"And you must be Ivy."
Ivy nodded. "Hi."
"Come inside," Mrs. Grose said. "Flora's been waiting."
"Waiting for what?" Ivy asked.
"For you," Kate said lightly.
Inside, Bly Manor felt endless.
The ceiling was too high. The halls too long. A chandelier hung above them, frozen in time. Old portraits lined the walls—serious faces, pale eyes.
Ivy slowed. "Why are they all staring?"
"They're not," Kate said.
"They are."
Footsteps came from the stairs.
A little girl appeared, pink dress, bright smile.
"Kate!" she cried, running down. "You're here!"
Kate knelt and hugged her. "Hey, Flora!"
Flora pulled back and looked at Ivy. "Is she yours?"
Kate blinked. "Mine?"
"Like a sister," Flora explained.
Ivy waved awkwardly. "I'm Ivy."
"I'm Flora!" she said happily. "We're going to be best friends."
Flora grabbed Ivy's hand.
"Hey—" Ivy started.
"Come see your room!" Flora said. "I picked it already."
"Flora," Mrs. Grose warned gently. "Slow down."
"But she'll like it," Flora said. "She looks like her."
Ivy froze. "Like who?"
Flora didn't answer. She just skipped down the hall.
The room was cold.
White walls. Tall windows. Dark sheets. A vanity by the window with a cracked mirror.
Ivy stepped inside slowly.
"Who slept here before?" she asked.
Flora smiled. "No one now."
"That's not an answer."
Flora tilted her head. "You'll be fine."
Then she was gone.
Ivy walked to the mirror. The crack split her reflection in two.
A drawer was open.
Inside—a hairbrush. Black hair tangled around it.
Ivy slammed the drawer shut.
"Nope," she whispered.
Dinner felt wrong.
Candles flickered. Shadows stretched too long. Ivy barely touched her food.
Flora talked nonstop.
"Ivy, do you have siblings?"
"No."
"I have a brother!" Flora said brightly. "He was naughty, so he got sent away."
Kate's fork paused.
Mrs. Grose stiffened.
"He's coming back tomorrow," Flora added happily. "Won't that be fun?"
Kate forced a smile. "That's… exciting."
Ivy swallowed. "Yeah. Exciting."
Flora beamed. "You'll like him. I know you will."
That night, Ivy lay awake.
Wind scratched at the windows. Trees whispered outside.
Tomorrow.
Her skin prickled.
She didn't know why—but something was coming.
And Bly Manor already knew her name.