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Chapter Text

The legend of Diane Lockhart goes like this: In the early 20th century, the Lockhart's were one of the wealthiest families in Chicago. James and Louisa Lockhart had one child, a daughter named Diane. At the time, she was considered the most beautiful young woman. She was well-read, spoke four languages, played the piano, and had the voice of an angel. 

Her love life was another story. By the time Diane was twenty-one, she had had three failed engagements—the first was with her childhood sweetheart, the second was with a Viscount from France, and the third died in a carriage accident. The rumors were starting that she was curse in love.

When Diane turned twenty-seven, the suitors stopped coming. She was still a beauty, but the men preferred the company of younger women. Her mother was embarrassed. All her friends' daughters got married, lived in beautiful homes, and had their babies. She didn't like that her daughter had her nose in a book and talked to her father about the law and politics. She would have done anything for her daughter to get married, and she did find a solution. But be careful what you wish for because wishes usually have consequences. 

Early October

Kurt McVeigh woke up to the sound of his shower running. He checked the time on his phone. It was 6:00 am, right on time. The radio, television, and shower have awakened him for the past two months. His ghost was his personal alarm clock. Kurt never believed in ghosts until moving into the three-bedroom cabin in the woods. When he saw the pictures online, he felt a connection to the place. It sounded ridiculous, but it felt like home. He thought it was odd that the asking price was so low, and his realtor did tell him the place was unique. The last owners, a pair of newlyweds, renovated the cabin from top to bottom, but a month after moving in, they quickly left. 

Kurt should have asked more questions but was desperate to leave Chicago. He wanted a fresh start, but he had never imagined that he would start fresh with Casper the Friendly Ghost. No, that wasn't his ghost name. He heard the legend from his realtor about Diane Lockhart haunting the cabin. Her mansion used to be where his cabin now was. After moving in, he heard more stories about her from the townspeople. He thought they were just stories, but he noticed things were being moved around two weeks after moving in. 

For example, he put his car keys on the kitchen table when he came home from work, and the following day, they were on the key holder. It was like Diane was telling him to put them in the correct place. (She was right) Another time, he was watching a baseball game when the channel flipped into a romantic movie. Kurt switched it back to the game, but it was back to the movie a few seconds later. He did this several times until, in the end, he gave in and watched the movie. Diane had a particular taste.

"Good morning, Diane," he said while sipping his coffee.

He had been doing this ritual for about a month now. Kurt knew it was odd to speak to a ghost, but he had to acknowledge her. They lived in the same place, and he sometimes wondered if she liked it.

"Have a good day, Diane," he said, grabbing his messenger bag and car keys. "Don't make a mess of the place."

Diane looked out of the living room window and saw him driving off. It had been two months since he moved in, and much to her surprise, he was still here. No matter what she did, he didn't budge. All her usual tricks didn't faze him. He was more challenging than past residents. Why wasn't he frightened of her? He intrigued her.

She had to admit whenever he said, 'Good morning' or 'Have a good day,' it stirred something inside her that she hadn't felt in a long time.

What made him so special?

Chapter Text

May 22, 1904

I am engaged to Cary. I still can't believe he proposed! My parents knew about this weeks in advance, but Cary wanted to wait until the timing was right. He proposed this morning in the breakfast room, and I was stunned. I didn't speak for several minutes. I shouldn't be surprised. Mother and Mrs. Agos have been planning our engagement since we were toddlers. I never saw Cary in that way. I always saw him as an older brother. Our parents are ecstatic. Mother is planning to take me to Carlson's for my wedding dress.

At seventeen, I am the first of my friends to get engaged. Am I ready for marriage? To have children? I want something more. I want to go to college. There are several women's colleges in the country, and I could meet with people with similar minds. But I know my mother wouldn't agree to this. She already thinks I spend too much time in my father's library. I want to be more than a wife and mother. I want to be a lawyer. The idea seems silly, but perhaps one day.

Sherwood, Illinois, was a small town but was known for two things:

Their famous blueberry pie contest

The Legend of Diane Lockhart

Like most small towns, everyone knew each other's business. When people learned the cabin in the woods was finally sold, they wondered who bought it. Who was the brave soul to live in it? How long will they survive before the haunting kicks them out?

Kurt taught U.S. History I for 9th graders at Sherwood High School. From his first day at the school, he became popular with the staff and the students. The students liked him because he was fair. He gave extensions on papers and gave them a second chance on exams. Sometimes, after school, he pitched for the Boy's baseball team if they needed help. The single female teachers had their eyes on him and wanted to get to know him better. He was thirty, handsome, and, most importantly, a bachelor. Also, his southern accent was hot. In his first week, there was a lot of Tupperware on his desk. He had never seen so many meatloaf and lasagna in his life before.

Kurt usually ate outside for lunch, but since it was raining, he ate in the staff room. He was joined by his friend Matthew Ali, who taught Biology and coached the Chess team. He befriended Kurt on his first day and was happy to take half of the Tupperware dinner.

"Hey, so a warning. The seniors have a tradition here that on Halloween, they go up to the cabin and do a seance to contact Diane Lockhart's ghost."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Does it work?"

Matthew snorted. "Of course not. Every senior class thinks they're going to be the ones who are going to succeed. My class thought we were special," he explained. "About ten minutes in, the captain of the basketball team pissed his pants when he heard an owl screeching, and everyone freaked out."

"So, it doesn't work at all."

"Nope. Besides, ghosts aren't real. It's a bunch of bull. You've been living there for two months and haven't seen anything, right?"

"Nothing," Kurt lied. 

He didn't want to tell his co-workers about his encounters because he couldn't imagine the questions they would ask. Diane didn't deserve that. 

"I don't think the seniors will do it this year since I live there."

Matthew shrugged. "They might give you a pass since you're new. You have three weeks to prepare."

"I don't want to call the police on them," said Kurt. "Having a police report won't look good when they start applying for colleges."

"I know, but because it's a tradition, they feel pressure."

"Thank you for the warning."

"No problem, man. Oh, Wendy is looking for you. She made her fresh-baked sugar cookies," Matthew said mischievously.

Wendy Holt taught French I, and like Kurt, she was popular with her students. She ran the French club and was also the Drama teacher. She was also the mayor's daughter and known as the town's sweetheart. Wendy had her eyes on Kurt since teacher orientation day and made it clear to everyone that Kurt belonged to her. She would flirt with him, make him pastries every chance she had, and giggle nonsense whenever he said something.

"Give her a chance," Matthew said, taking a bite from his apple. She's pretty, nice, and funny."

"I'm not ready to start dating."

"It's been five months since you broke up with your ex, right? It's time to enter the dating scene again. You don't have to start a relationship right away."

"I guess it has to click," said Kurt. "Wendy is okay, but I don't feel any sparks, you know?"

"How do you know if you haven't gone on a date with her? It's an excuse. I'll be your wingman."

"I'll think about it."

Kurt was successful in avoiding Wendy until 3:00 pm. She handed a plate of her sugar cookies to him and said, 

"I hope you like them, Kurt. I made them just for you," she giggled.

He thought the cookies were too sweet, but Matthew thought they were fine and ate them all.

It wasn't until 10:00 pm when he finally came home. He had a parent/teacher conference, and after work, he and Matthew headed to a bar to have dinner and watch the Chicago Cubs vs Atlanta Braves game. In the end, the Cubs won 7-6. He dropped his car keys on the kitchen table, showered, and crashed into bed. Before he closed his eyes, he muttered,

"Good night, Diane."

A few minutes later, while Kurt was snoring, Diane covered him with his blanket and said,

"Good night, Kurt."

The following day, Kurt woke up with the television on. It was 6:00 am on the dot. He was surprised he was covered in his blanket. Did he do that in the middle of the night? His mind was still fuzzy. After getting dressed, he headed to the kitchen and saw his car keys on the key holder. He smiled slightly.

"Good morning, Diane," he said. "I trust everything was well last night."

He ate his cinnamon apple oatmeal while watching the news. After he was finished, he turned off the television and washed his dishes.

"Have a good day, Diane. Don't make a mess of the house."

After grabbing his things, he got inside his car. For a brief moment, he thought he saw a young woman looking at him from the living room window. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, but there was nothing. He shook his head and drove away.

April 5, 1914

Louisa Lockhart was in the living room waiting for her guest to arrive. It was nearly 9:00 pm. Nobody was in her Chicago home except for her and the maid, Patricia. Her husband and daughter had gone to Wisconsin to visit Richard's sister and her family for the week.

She was getting nervous. Perhaps this was a bad idea, but she was desperate for Diane to get married no matter what. It would help the family with money burdens. This goes against her religion, and she hopes one day, God will forgive her. Her cousin, Matilda from New York, told her the man was brilliant and helped marry her youngest daughter two years ago. She prays it would work for Diane.

The bell rang. She heard Patrica coming from the kitchen to answer the door. Louisa got up, smoothed out the wrinkles of her dress, and prepared herself to meet her daughter's future.

Chapter Text

August 27, 1906

My engagement ended after three months. I wrote to Henri; as much as I wanted to help him, I couldn't go through it. I hope we can remain friends. He was good to me, but the marriage would have been unhappy. Mother is furious. For three months, she boasted to her friends that her daughter would be a Viscountess and I would live in a beautiful house in Paris with many servants. She has been in her room for the past week, not touching the food, that the maids leave outside. Father is the opposite. He never was happy with the engagement from the beginning. He had the biggest smile I had ever seen when I told him. My friends think I'm mad, but I'm relieved.

A Week Before Halloween

Kurt went to the Sherwood Public Library every Saturday to grade projects and exams. He tried to focus, but he couldn't get the song he heard on the radio out of his head. He blamed Diane. Today was radio day, and the first song was Raspberry Beret. It was a good song, but it drove him off the wall. He usually sat in the nonfiction area in circulation, and hardly anyone went there. He took out his blue folder and red marker and began to grade. About ten minutes in, he felt cold. It was warm earlier. Did the heat break down? He got up to head to the circulation desk to ask about the heat, but a loud slam in the far right corner made him jump.

"Damn, living in the cabin is making me paranoid, " thought Kurt.

He slowly went to the corner and saw a book on the floor. It had a green cover with yellow words, ‘A Room with A View, by E.M. Forster. But that was a fiction book not nonfiction. What was it doing here? It was old. Kurt slowly opened it to the first page so he wouldn’t rip it and he almost dropped it when saw who the book belonged to.

Diane Lockhart

Kurt suddenly felt lightheaded and went back to his desk to sit. He was holding Diane's book. Her fingers flipped through this book a century ago. What the hell was going on? Was someone playing an early Halloween joke on him? It was too much of a coincidence. He looked around the area, but he was the only one. Kurt put the book in his messenger bag and told himself he would buy the library a new copy. He continued grading his exams, but his eyes shifted to his bag every now and then. By 1:30 pm, he finished grading and grabbed his messenger bag. He was walking past the children's department to use the bathroom when he heard someone saying his name,

"Kurt!"

He turned around and saw Wendy waving happily at him. Kurt forced a smile.

"Hi, Kurt," she smiled at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Grading papers," he answered. "Do you work here also?"

She shook her head. "I volunteer here every other Saturday. Today was story time, and I read Sleeping Beauty to the kids."

“That’s nice. Well, I have to use the bathroom and…”

“Do you want to have lunch together? I usually go to Patty’s for lunch.”

“I’m not that hungry,” said Kurt. On cue his stomach growled, which made Wendy laugh.

“Come on. It will be my treat. Besides, I want to get to know you more.” 

She shot him a flirty smile.

“Give her a chance,” he heard Matthew’s voice in his head.

“Sure.”

Wendy squealed in delight. “Okay, just give me a second to get my stuff.”

She headed to the back counter and grabbed her purse. “Let’s go!”

Patty’s Diner was half full when they arrived. They sat in a corner booth, sitting across from each other. Wendy ordered a tuna wrap, while Kurt ordered the bacon cheeseburger with fries.

While waiting for their food, Wendy asked the usual questions. How did he like Sherwood? Did he like his students? Did he miss Chicago? 

Kurt tried to keep the answers short, but Wendy wanted his life story. Finally, after an eternity, their food arrived.

“Are you ready for Halloween?” she asked, taking a bite from her tuna wrap.

“Do you mean the séance? Matthew told me.”

“My class was after Matthew’s and I thought I saw a shadow of a woman but I didn’t tell anybody. Besides, it’s a silly tradition that should have been stopped years ago,” she firmly said. 

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

"Nope," she smiled. "It's just stories, Kurt. I mean, Diane Lockhart was real, but she's not haunting the cabin. She's been dead for a century. Why should she be hanging around your place?"

"You have no idea," thought Kurt.

"So, speaking of Halloween," she began. "My mom hosts a Halloween party every year, and I just wanted to know if you would like to be my date for the party. I'm going to dress as Marie Antoinette. You could be Louis XVI!

"They both got beheaded."

"Oh, I know that, but before the revolution. Do you want to go?"

Kurt cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Wendy. I'm not ready to date yet."

Wendy's face fell. "Oh, well, perhaps next time. But come anyway."

Kurt nodded. "I'm sorry. I'll pay for lunch."

Wendy sadly smiled and got up from the table. "I'll see you on Monday."

"I'll see you on Monday, Wendy."

Wendy left the Diner in a rush, and Kurt felt terrible, but he didn't want to lead her on. When he paid the bill, he was heading to his car and saw Wendy in her car, crying her eyes out.

"Fuck," he thought.

Back at home, Kurt slowly traced Diane's handwriting.

"I found your book, Di. You had such beautiful penmanship. I wondered how many times you read this book?"

He put the book on his nightstand and went to take his shower.

Diane gently touched the book. She briefly smiled. It was a gift from her Aunt Beatrice on her 21st birthday. She read the book in two days and imagined herself as Lucy traveling to Italy with the man of her choosing. How did Kurt find her book? Sometimes, she wanted to talk to him. When was the last time she spoke to someone? Every year, those teenagers came on Halloween and held a séance to speak to her, but she had no interest in talking to them. Silence. How she yearned to have a meaningful conversation. To talk about anything.

Kurt got out of the shower and saw the book on his bed. He chuckled.

"Is this a sign I should read the book?"

That night, Kurt began reading the book. He slowly flipped the pages, careful not to rip them. After the third chapter, Kurt felt his eyes getting heavy, and he turned off the light. Before he closed his eyes, he thought he smelled vanilla.

April 12, 1914

For the past week, Thomas Morton was following Diane Lockhart. When Mrs. Lockhart showed him the picture of her daughter, he fell in love at first sight. She was beautiful. He had to have her. Whatever she wanted, he would give it to her. He would make her happy. They would have a wonderful life together. Mrs. Lockhart was a foolish woman. She was desperate and didn't care how much money she was spending on a potion that didn't work at all. The thought of marrying into the Lockhart family made Thomas fill with glee. The family wasn't as powerful in Chicago as before, but they still had connections he could use. That night in his apartment, he took out the picture of Diane under his pillow and kissed it.

Yes, he would have her. No matter the cost.

Chapter Text

Halloween Eve (Oct.30) (Friday)

"Are you fucking nuts!" screamed Matthew over the phone. "You said no to Wendy? Why?"

Kurt was in the laundry room washing his clothes and sheets. He thought his eardrum had ruptured.

Matthew was in Chicago caring for his mother, who sprained her ankle while walking the dog. He was gone for a week and returned on Monday when his sister from Toronto was going to take over the duties.

"Like I told you, I'm not ready to date yet. Look, Wendy's nice, but…"

"I know. You have to feel sparks," mocked Matthew. "You're going to regret this."

"I'm not. Besides, I must protect the cabin in case the seniors come."

Matthew scoffed. "I think you're the first guy you ever said no to Wendy."

"If you're so concerned about her, you should ask her out."

Matthew stammered. "Wh…What me? I…I have to go. I have to bring my mom her ice pack. See you later." He hung up.

"That shut him up," smiled Kurt.

Halloween (Oct. 31) (Saturday)

The following day, Kurt woke up feeling something odd in the air. The smell of vanilla was still hanging in the air. The scent had been everywhere since he had found the book a week ago. He didn't mind. Whenever he opened the door after returning from work, he felt relaxed. Was it Diane? Telling him, thank you for finding my book. He shouldn't be surprised. For two months, he saw and heard things. His car keys were always in the key holder in the morning, and he didn't mind. Diane didn't bother him at all. He acknowledged her, and it was nice to have a ghost roommate.

Today, he had to be on his toes. He really hoped the seniors wouldn't come. Wendy was right. The tradition was silly and needed to be stopped. Wendy didn't talk to him for two days after what happened in the diner, but on the third day, she needed help with the bulletin board in her class, and they started talking again. She still wanted him to attend the Halloween party, but he said he would consider it.

After a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast, he walked outside. The air was crisp, and he loved to hear the crunchy noise of leaves under his boots. It was peaceful, and despite living in Chicago for five years, the country boy in him never left. This was heaven for him. He also saw some deer in the area a couple of weeks ago, and it was perfect for shooting.

He was walking straight to the creek and thought about Diane. This area was her home. He wondered what she liked, her hopes and dreams, and whether they would have gotten along if they had met. He stopped by the creek and saw fish swimming, and perhaps tomorrow, that could be his lunch or dinner. Kurt closed his eyes for a bit, but he heard branches breaking behind him. He quickly opened his eyes and turned his head, but nothing.

"Hello?"

There was a giggle, and Kurt shouted, "Come out! I won't call the police!"

Nothing.

"Okay, time to go home, McVeigh," he thought.

While returning home, he thought about Diane again and wondered if she had walked the same path a century ago. He had so many questions but no answers. 

"Who are you, Diane?" he asked to the woods.

In the afternoon, he was preparing his family's homemade chicken soup. He prepared a big pot to have leftovers for the next day. Kurt cut the potatoes, carrots, celery, and chicken, and while the soup was boiling, he swept the kitchen floor and cleaned the bathroom. After finishing the chores, he turned on the TV and flipped through the channels until he finally decided on 'Carrie.' But ten minutes into the movie, the channel flipped to a documentary about The Met Opera. He flipped it back to Carrie, and seconds later, the documentary came on again.

Kurt sighed wearily. "Diane, please stop. I'm trying to watch the movie. When I finish, we can watch whatever you like."

"I can't believe I'm negotiating with a ghost," he thought.

The movie came back on. When the movie was finished, Kurt found another documentary about Leo Tolstoy. He didn't know if Diane liked Leo Tolstoy, but his channel didn't change, so that was a good sign.

The soup was finally finished. The aroma smelled wonderful. He ate two bowls and wished to enjoy the soup with somebody else. Holly didn't like soups. She told him it didn't feel her up; it was just water. He hadn't heard from her since they broke up five months ago, which relieved him. He knew the breakup was coming, so it wasn't surprising when she told him the relationship wasn't going anywhere after two years. Holly wanted to get married and have kids, but to be honest, Kurt didn't see a life with her.

The next day, she packed all her stuff and moved in with one of her friends. That was it—five months of silence, and he hoped it would continue like that. After the second helping of soup, he was starting to fall asleep. He was dozing off when the smell of vanilla hit his nostrils. He heard the giggling again, which snapped his eyes wide open.

"Diane?" he whispered. "Is that you?"

He quietly followed the giggling to his bedroom. What he saw stunned him. A woman was staring at herself in the mirror. She was transparent. Kurt could see right through her.

"This can't be happening."

She wore a white lace blouse, a navy-blue long skirt with black heels, and her blonde hair was up. She was humming softly.

"She's beautiful."

"Diane?" he softly asked.

She turned around, her blue eyes meeting his green eyes. Diane was shocked that he was seeing her. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

"Hi," Kurt meekly said.

Diane disappeared from his sight.

"No, wait!"

The smell of vanilla was gone.

"Fuck," he said. 

He saw Diane Lockhart's ghost. He couldn't believe it. After two months of hearing, seeing, and smelling things, he finally saw her.

"Fuck," he said again.

For the rest of the day, he avoided his room. It was childish, but it was surreal. He saw a ghost. What was the next step? 

In Kurt's room, Diane was pacing back and forth. She was worried. She blamed herself. Why did she appear in front of him? Was Kurt going to move out now? He couldn't. After two months, she got used to him.

She wanted him to stay. He was different from the others.

Kurt greeted her in the morning. 

He smelled nice, and his cooking smelled wonderful.

Plus, he was handsome to look at.

Why was she thinking about him in that way?

She couldn't think that way. Kurt was alive, and she wasn't. 

Diane closed her eyes and disappeared. 

That night, Kurt returned to his room. There was no sign of her, and he was disappointed.

"Diane? I don't know if you're here or not. We were surprised to see each other. I won't tell anybody I saw you. Goodnight."

He put on his pajamas, read two more chapters of "A Room with a View," and slept.

Diane appeared again and giggled softly. She hadn't felt this happy in a long time and hoped it would never go away soon.

Chapter Text

Oct. 12, 1908

Today would have been my wedding day to Jack. He was pleasant and funny, and he was also an art lover. I miss his stories about his childhood in Australia. We were planning to go there for our honeymoon for three months. He would take me to Perth to visit relatives for a couple of weeks and take me by train to Melbourne to see his parents. Why did Jack decide to show off his new carriage? Why did he choose to race that day? For a month, it was all Chicago talked about. The Chicago Press ran an article about how I was 'Cursed in Love.’' Father threatened to sue the paper to stop writing about me, which they did. Perhaps the newspaper was right. Maybe love isn't for me. I have never been in love before. Jack knew. He hoped that by the end of our honeymoon, I would be in love with him like he was with me. Maybe. I guess I would never know.

Nov. 1 (Sunday)

Kurt woke up to the sound of the television. It was 6:00 am on the dot. Last night felt like a dream. Did it happen? Did he see Diane Lockhart's ghost? Was she going to appear again, or did he have to wait until next Halloween to see her? His cell phone buzzed. It was a message from Holly. 

"Call me when you have the chance."

Five months of silence. Kurt wasn't in the mood to talk with her. What did she want? She made it clear she didn't want to do anything with him.

"I'll call her later," he thought when he got up to shower. 

After his shower, he went to the kitchen to make blueberry pancakes and bacon. Last night's events were swirling in his mind. Those blue eyes—so lovely and sad. She looked real. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to know more about her.

When he finished, he turned on his laptop and researched the Lockhart family. Kurt did some research before moving in but stopped once he started working. He knew the basic facts about the family. The summer mansion burned to the ground a month after Diane disappeared. Mr. Lockhart died of a heart attack a year later, and Mrs. Lockhart moved back to New York City to live with her widowed sister.

Online, Kurt found many articles about Diane. They were mostly the same. Copy and Paste except for one website. It talked about the town of Sherwood, but it was primarily focused on the Lockhart family. It was very detailed. It had pictures of Diane when she was younger. One was when she was sitting on her father's lap and her coming-of-age ball at sixteen. There were pictures of the three fiancés. and how the engagements ended. It was remarkable. Kurt was taking down notes furiously. When he was finished, he went to the Contact Information. Judy Harris created the website, and there was an email address. The site was last updated ten years ago, but it was worth a try. He wrote to her and left his phone number so she could contact him. Ten minutes later, his cell phone rang. It was unknown.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Kurt McVeigh?" It was an older woman.

"Yes. Who is speaking?"

"Judy Harris. You emailed me a few minutes ago."

"Oh, Ms. Harris. Yes, I did. Thank you for calling me. I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you."

"No, it's fine. I'm at home drinking my raspberry tea. I understand you are now living in the cabin, correct?"

Yes, ma'am. For almost three months now."

"Have you seen her ghost?"

Kurt almost dropped his pen. "Excuse me?"

"Have you seen her ghost?" she repeated, giggling like a six-year-old child.

"Yesterday."

"On Halloween. Perfect timing. I was fourteen when I saw her. My mom and I went to the cabin to clean up before the new renters came. I was sleeping in the main bedroom when I saw her. Beautiful but sad."

"Yes. Your family owned the cabin at one time?"

"For decades. After the mansion burned down, Mr. Lockhart sold the land to my great-grandfather."

"He did? Why?"

"My great-aunt Patricia was a maid for the family for five years when Diane disappeared. The family ran out of money and wanted to get rid of it. But I have a theory, Mr. McVeigh."

"What is it?"

"I think they sold the land to my family to shut my great-aunt up. She knew what happened to their daughter."

"What?" Kurt couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What happened to Diane?"

"Do you have time, Mr. McVeigh?"

Three hours later, Kurt hung up and ran his fingers through his dark brown hair. He rubbed his eyes and flipped through his notebook. It was nearly full of notes. He couldn't believe the story he just heard. It was surreal. The room suddenly felt warm. Kurt needed to get out, and he grabbed his coat and went for a walk. So much information was going through his mind. It was unbelievable. He stopped by the creek and sat on one of the boulders.

Tears were coming down his face. When was the last time he cried? He didn't cry when Holly broke up with him, but he was crying over someone who died over a century ago. The smell of vanilla hit his nose, and she was here. He felt relieved.

"Diane, I'm sorry what happened to you. You didn't deserve that."

He half-expected her to answer back, but the only noise coming from the creek was the water. After he composed himself, he got up and started to walk back home. He was almost there when he saw her. Diane was staring at him. She gave him a sad smile and faded away.

"Diane, don't go!"

He ran to the spot where she was.

"Diane, I want to help you. You can trust me. I won't betray you. Please."

Kurt reached the cabin, ripped a paper from his notebook, grabbed a pencil, and put them on one of the guest room's beds.

"Just write something. I won't judge you."

For the rest of the day, Kurt made himself busy. He made lunch, washed his laundry and sheets, and finished reading his James Patterson book. By 10:00 pm, he went to the guest room to look at the paper. There, in crooked handwriting,

"Hello, Kurt."

June 1, 1914

For the past five years, Patricia Harris has been working as a maid for one of the wealthiest families in Chicago, the Lockharts. The Lockharts' weren't cruel people. They treated their staff fairly, and the pay was well compared to other households. But over the years, she noticed the staff was getting smaller and smaller. There were now only her, the butler James, and the cook Sarah. Her best friend, Amy, who worked with the Gardners' told her the Lockhart's were losing money. They would move to Connecticut since Mr. Lockhart planned to teach at Yale Law School. They wanted a clean slate. Patricia knew she had to find a new job.

The Lockhart's wouldn't take her to the other side of the country. At least she knew how to read and write. When she started working with the family, she barely knew how to write her name. Thankfully, Ms. Lockhart taught her every night before going to bed. Patricia enjoyed her lessons with her. She was patient and intelligent and kept up with the fashion trends. It was a pity she never married. When Patricia first started working with the family, Ms. Lockhart's third fiancé, Mr. Copeland, died the year before due to a carriage accident. Mrs. Lockhart has been trying for years to find a suitable suitor for her daughter, but nothing. The one man she had noticed been coming lately was Mr. Morton, who came once a week whenever Mr. Lockhart and Ms. Lockhart weren't home. He gave Mrs. Lockhart a small glass of the bottle a few times; she saw her putting small doses in her daughter's tea. Was the mistress poisoning her daughter? Patricia finally had the chance to figure out what was inside the bottle. One day, when the family went to church, she went to Mrs. Lockhart's bedroom. She sniffed it, but no smell. She took a sip, but to her surprise, it was water. Why was Mrs. Lockhart putting water in her daughter's tea? Who was this mysterious Mr. Morton?

Chapter Text

For the rest of the week, Diane answered the questions that Kurt was leaving her each morning. It was four different questions every day. The questions were mostly simple:

1. Do you have feelings?

          Yes, I have feelings.

     2. Do you hear me when I'm speaking?

          Yes, I do.

     3. Who was your favorite author?

          Jane Austen

      4. What is your favorite color?

           Green

Diane was enjoying herself, but it would have been better if they had talked to each other and had a whole conversation. She liked his voice; it had a calming effect on her. Diane wanted to know more about Kurt. It had been so many years since she had a friend.

Kurt couldn't wait every day after work to read Diane's answers. After three months of living together, he was learning more about her. The questions were simple, but he knew he would eventually ask her the difficult questions about what happened to her. A week after they started to communicate, Kurt went to the guest room and saw his questions were answered, but he saw a fifth question:

Can I ask you questions, too?

He wrote: Yes, you may. 

The following day, when Kurt went to the guest room, he saw the questions she wrote.

1. Do you have a family?

          Yes, I have a mother, a younger brother, and a sister.

     2. What do you like to do?

          I like to fish, hunt, and play baseball.

     3. What do you like to read?

         I like to read history, biographies, and mysteries/thrillers.

     4. Why are you not married?

         I am still looking for the right person.

During their exchange of answers, Kurt tried to piece together the answers to what happened to Diane while still talking to Ms. Harris. She was telling him more about the mysterious Mr. Morton.

"He was telling people that Harry Houdini was his mentor, but he was a conman from New Mexico. He worked in state fairs and the circus, selling so-called medicine to cure your ailments. His most popular one was a love potion. You know how many desperate mothers brought it?"

"What was in it?"

"Water," scoffed Ms. Harris. "Just plain water."

The case consumed Kurt. He would go to the school library during his lunch break to research Thomas Morton. He learned that the con man was wanted in Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Mississippi. He was the main suspect in Diane's case, but before police could question him, they found him in his apartment of alcohol poisoning. There were no other suspects in the case, which went cold.

Three days before Thanksgiving, Ms. Harris called and told him she would send her great-aunt personal items about the Lockhart family. She mentioned that her aunt wanted to write a book about Diane but died before she could start.

"Are you sure?" asked Kurt. "They belong to your family. I'm just a stranger."

"I'm sure. When my aunt died, my mom took over to solve the case, and when she passed away ten years ago, it was my turn. Nobody in my family is interested in Diane like myself. They think it's a waste of time," she sadly said. "It's time for someone else to take over. I believe that person is you, Mr. McVeigh."

"I will do my best, Ms. Harris. I want to solve what happened to her. It's unfair."

"It's too bad she was born at the wrong time. Aunt Patricia told me she would have made a difference at a different time. I always imagine she ran away to Paris or Venice to have a new life. What if. Anyway, you won't receive the package until after Thanksgiving."

"It's fine. Thank you, once again, Ms. Harris."

"You're welcome, Mr. McVeigh. I think Diane is in the best hands."

"I hope so."

On Wednesday morning, Kurt was packing his carry-on for his Thanksgiving weekend trip to Texas. Since school was closing early at 1:00 pm, Matthew would give him a ride to O'Hare Airport after work since he would spend Thanksgiving with his family in Chicago.

"Okay, Diane. Keep an eye on the cabin. I will be back Sunday afternoon," he said.

He double-checked on the windows and doors before heading out. 

Diane wistfully watched Kurt get into his friend's car and leave. She remembered her last Thanksgiving with her family—it wasn't happy. 

November 27, 1913

They were running out of money. Father made a bad business deal with one of his clients a couple of years ago, and they were still trying to recuperate the money. They had to let go of many of the staff, leaving only three, and by next summer, they would sell the mansion at Sherwood. 

Her father sold the firm, which Diane's grandfather had built from scratch to Mr. Gardner, his former law partner and a one-time potential suitor for Diane. They received little money but managed to float for a couple of months. Her mother was furious that he sold the firm to Mr. Gardner and snubbed his wife Alicia in public several times.

Dinner was quiet. Diane wanted the evening to be over and go right to bed. When it was time for dessert, a chocolate cake, her father's favorite, came out. It was a tense night, and it didn't help matters that her mother brought up Cary and his wife, Lillian, who were expecting their third child. 

"Enough, Louisa!" Her father slammed the table so hard that the cake fell to the floor. "No more talk about marriage and children. It's time to move on!"

Diane hoped Kurt didn't have that problem with his family.

At 6:00 pm, the McVeigh family settled in the dining room for Thanksgiving dinner. The house was warm and full of Christmas lights. Kurt and his younger sister Rose decorated the Christmas tree that morning, while his younger brother Chris put up the Christmas decorations outside.

The dinner consisted of turkey, potato salad, mashed potatoes, green beans, and two desserts: cheesecake and apple pie.

"Kurt, how's the cabin?" his mom asked, taking a bite of the potato salad.

Anna McVeigh worked as a preschool teacher and, on the weekends, volunteered at a soup kitchen.

"It's fine," said Kurt. "It's peaceful, and no annoying neighbors."

"You and your dad were so similar," she faintly smiled. "His dream was also having a cabin in the woods. But I'm not too fond of the fact you're by yourself. What if there's an emergency? Isn't there a place in town you can rent?"

"Mom, I'm okay. It's been three months, and I don't mind being alone."

"After living with Holly, he needs his own space," added Rose. "Especially with her voice."

Rose, the youngest of the family, was twenty-one, worked in a pet store, and took night classes at the community college.

"I could still hear her voice in my dreams," shuddered Chris, drinking from his wine. "How did you survive, Kurt?"

Chris, the middle child, was twenty-five years old and owned a bookstore in Dallas with his girlfriend, Alexis.

"Okay, guys, let's not talk about Holly at all," said their mom. "Let's change the subject. Kurt, are you seeing anybody?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I don't have time. I'm thinking of writing a book."

"About what?" asked Chris, leaning forward in curiosity. "Fiction or nonfiction?"

"Nonfiction. It's about a Chicago socialite named Diane Lockhart, who lived in the early 20th century. Um,…she disappeared over 100 years ago," explained Kurt. "The Lockharts' summer mansion was built where the cabin is now."

"Why are you interested in her?" asked his mom.

"I want to know more about what happened to her. It's a mystery. I guess…I want to solve the case. Also, the entire town believes she's haunting the cabin."

"Cool," said Rose, her green eyes lighting up. "I love a good ghost story."

"Is your cabin haunted?" asked Chris.

"No," Kurt lied. "I haven't seen anything so far."

"Mom, perhaps we can spend Christmas at Kurt's place?" suggested Rose. "Maybe I will be lucky to see Diane Lockhart's ghost." She was jumping in her seat a bit. "Plus, Kurt has the space now. He has two guest rooms."

"Let's see. It will be nice to finally see your cabin. We'll talk about this later. Now, who's ready for dessert?"

That night, Kurt had a dream about Diane. He was coming home, and she was reading a book in the living room. When she saw Kurt, she got up and happily said, 

"Welcome home, Kurt."

She gently grabbed his left hand and squeezed it.

Kurt woke up. Everything felt so real, from her beautiful voice to her warm hand. He slightly chuckled. Perhaps he was spending too much time with Diane, but he didn't regret it. He closed his eyes and hoped he would dream of her again.

Chapter Text

December

Diane never heard so much laughter in the cabin before. He cleaned and decorated the cabin a few days before his family arrived. He cut down a pine tree and put it in a corner. The tree had white lights, green balls, and a bright yellow star on top. He set several gifts under the tree and decorated a wreath with red ribbons that he put outside the door. There was music she never heard before playing in the cabin, and it was nice to see Kurt getting excited for his family to come.

Two days ago, they came. Kurt's mother, Anna, was a short woman with light brown hair and hazel eyes. The second she stepped inside, she looked around. She looked at everything and made sure the cabin was clean. Kurt's younger brother Chris was the spitting image of Kurt, except he wore glasses, and his laugh was different. Rose, the youngest sister, had dark brown hair with blue highlights and was dying to see Diane. 

"I can't wait to see your ghost, Kurt!" said Rose when they stepped inside. "You were talking so much about her during Thanksgiving."

When Diane heard that, she felt something warm going through her body. She couldn't believe Kurt talked about her to his family. She thought she wasn't necessary to anybody anymore.

Kurt's mom and sister were sleeping in one guest room, and Kurt's brother was in the other. The cabin was becoming lively, and the aroma from the kitchen smelled delicious. Diane swore she heard her stomach growling, but that was impossible. Ghosts don't get hungry at all. Diane didn't mind that she and Kurt weren't having their conversations. He was with his family, and that was important. 

Christmas Eve

When Kurt woke up, he smelled French toast. He checked the time on his phone. It was 6:00 am. He told his mom not to cook him breakfast since she was making Christmas dinner, but as always, she didn't listen. It was nice to be with his family, but he thought of Diane. He hadn't heard from her since his family came. Where was she? After four months of living together, he got used to her. 

He got up and headed to the bathroom, but it was locked. Kurt banged on the door.

"Chris, stop taking your sweetie time! I have to go!"

Kurt suddenly felt he was twelve again. Chris opened the door and said, "Don't be rude; it's Christmas Eve." He stuck out his tongue at him. Kurt punched him on the shoulder.

The entire family was eating French toast with sausage. Kurt almost moaned in happiness when the french toast hit his tongue. He missed his mom's home cooking a lot.

"Kurt, is the supermarket open today?" asked his mom.

"I think until 3:00 pm. Why?"

"I have to buy peas and carrots for the potato salad," she explained. Would it be okay if I took your truck?"

Kurt nodded. "It's fine."

Anna looked at her younger son. "Come on, Chris. You're going with me."

"Why?"

"Because I want to spend time with you. We hardly see each other, and you're leaving in two days to spend New Year's with Alexis and her family."

Chris knew it was better not to fight with his mom about this. Anna McVeigh was a tough cookie.

"Sure. Let me get ready."

Anna looked at her other two children. "You two, I want you to start peeling and cutting the potatoes. Then cut the celery, too. We can't be wasting time here."

"Ay, Ay, ma'am," said Rose, giving her a mock salute.

While their mom and Chris were changing, Rose excitedly asked Kurt, "Do you think we can see Diane today?"

"She's a ghost, not a stray kitten," said Kurt. "It all depends on how she feels."

That surprised Rose. "Do ghosts even have feelings? I thought they were soulless?"

Kurt shook his head and smiled, "Not Diane. She is one of a kind."

Rose gave him a funny look and said, "Interesting."

"Okay, we're leaving," said Anna, grabbing her purse.

Kurt gave her his car keys. "Be careful, mom. It's starting to snow."

"We'll be back soon enough," she smiled. She looked at Chris and said, "If you're a good boy, I'll buy you a chocolate bar."

Chris scoffed. "Mom, I'm not ten anymore. Okay, but if they have Snickers, I want two."

"Deal. See you two later. Remember, your jobs!"

"Yes, Mom!" said Kurt and Rose.

Rose looked out the window to make sure the trunk had left the driveway. When it did, she looked at Kurt and said, "Tell me everything, big brother."

While Kurt and Rose were peeling the potatoes, he told her everything he knew about Diane. 

"So the case went cold?" asked Rose. "That was it?"

"She disappeared a month before World War I started. People were more concerned about surviving the war than the disappearance of a socialite. The police tried to reopen the case a few months after the war ended, but Mrs. Lockhart didn't want them to."

"That's weird," said Rose. "Why didn't she want them to reopen the case?" She gasped. "Do you think she was part of her daughter's disappearance?"

Kurt shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I have all of this information, and nothing makes sense."

"I could help, Kurt! I have nothing to do during winter break. I could be your extra eyes."

Kurt was about to say no, but once he saw her doing the sad cat face, he finally said, "Fine, but don't tell anyone else, got it?"

"Got it, big brother. Is there any way to contact Diane? Like a seance? Or do we repeat her name three times, like Bloody Mary, and she suddenly appears?"

"There is a way, but let's finish with the potatoes and celery first."

After the chopping was finished, Kurt grabbed his notebook and took Rose to the guest room, where she and her mom were staying. He handed her the notebook.

"Write any question you want, and she'll answer it."

Rose started laughing but stopped when she realized her brother wasn't laughing. "Are you serious?"

Kurt nodded. 

"Come on, Kurt!"

He showed Rose the questions he asked Diane for the past weeks. "See, this is proof."

"No, it's not. Mom is right. Perhaps living here alone is driving you crazy."

"Just write a question."

"Fine," Rose huffed. She took the notebook and pencil from him and wrote, 

"Do you think my brother is crazy for writing to you?"

" Leave it on the bed, and we'll return later."

Kurt closed the door, and they went to the living room to watch the news.

"Mom is worried about you," said Rose. "We talked about you last night, and she wants you to return home."

"I'm not coming back home," said Kurt. "I'm happy here."

"Happier than Chicago? You hated Chicago."

"I did," admitted Kurt. "I stayed mostly for Holly."

"She got engaged over a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving."

"She did?"

Rose took out her phone and showed him Holly's Instagram page. On the page, Holly was sitting on the lap of her fiance, Eric, showing off a massive diamond ring.

"She texted me around that same time to call her, but I never called her back. That was quick."

Rose nodded. "They met a year ago at the gym. Did you ever suspect?"

"I had a feeling, but I had no proof. I have no social media accounts, so she got away with it."

"Are you pissed?"

Kurt shook his head. "No. The relationship was over for some time. I hope she finds happiness."

"You too, big brother."

"Thanks. Now, you want to see what Diane wrote?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Okay, let's see what Diane has to say."

They returned to the guest room, and Kurt smiled when he saw the answer. "Here."

His sister took the notebook, and her mouth dropped.

"Do you think my brother is crazy for writing to you?"

No, your brother is perfectly sane to me.

Chapter Text

"This is a joke?" asked Rose, dropping the notebook. She looked at her brother for confirmation. "Is this a trick? Is somebody helping you?"

"It's not a trick," answered Kurt calmly. He picked up the notebook. "Diane is writing to us."

"How?" I mean, this is impossible." She slowly smiled. "Fuck, this is amazing. Does anybody else know this?"

"No, and please don't tell anybody about this."

"My lips are sealed," promised Rose. "So, I'm guessing Diane is a friendly ghost? She won't harm us?"

"She won't," smiled Kurt. "Initially, she was trying to scare me away, but we got used to each other. She's unique."

The front door opened and closed. "We're home!" shouted their mom. "Let's make this dinner."

Diane was in the kitchen watching the McVeigh family prepare Christmas dinner. Kurt's mom handled the chicken, and Kurt put the finishing touches on the potato salad. Rose and Chris figured out how to make banana bread or apple pie for dessert. She enjoyed watching them work together.

Kurt caught a glance of Diane by the fridge. She was smiling, and he thought it was the most beautiful smile he ever saw. Rose saw Kurt looking at the refrigerator with a goofy smile.

"What the hell is going on?" she thought.

The family sat around the table for dinner around 8:00 pm. There was so much laughter, talking, and making jokes. Diane was amazed by this, which was much different from her family's Christmas.

December 25, 1913

Christmas was always a grand affair at the Lockharts' home. It was the social event of the year. Diane loved it as a child, but as time passed, she got tired of hearing the same old stories and wanted to be in her room and read her father's law books. It was always the same people. Diane's mother rarely invited new people, especially if they were new money.

Their last Christmas together was only family. Her aunt and her family from Wisconsin came, and much to everyone's surprise, cousin Alexander came with his family. He was the black sheep of the family, who dropped out of medical school in his second year and married his mother's maid. Diane's father always had a soft spot for his nephew since he carried the Lockhart name. The atmosphere was a bit tense, but the saving grace was the children running around and listening to Diane's father reading, 'A Christmas Carol.'

Alexander, a detective in Philadelphia, was talking to Diane about a case he was working on. It was about a con man named Thomas Morton who sold fake medicine to the rich.

"He's wanted in several states," said Alexander, drinking his wine. They were in her father's office, while the others were in the living room listening to Diane's father.

"The last we heard from him was that he was heading to Chicago. He also created a special "love potion" for people who want to find true love. Just be careful."

"Alex, you know I don't believe in that."

"I know," he slightly smiled. "I meant your mother."

Diane shook her head. "Impossible. Mother is not that desperate."

"People do desperate things for the people they love."

It was nearly 2:00 am when the McVeigh family finally went to sleep. Kurt took off his clothes and climbed under the covers. He was glad to have his family here. It felt good to be around loved ones. As he was dozing off, the smell of vanilla surrounded him. 

"Kurt."

Kurt woke up feeling cold. Was the heat working? He wrapped himself tighter in his blankets and closed his eyes again, but he heard a female voice.

"Kurt."

He opened his eyes, and they went to the mirror. There she was, brighter than during the day.

"Diane."

She smiled at him.

"I miss you," he said. "I mean, I missed hearing you waking me up at 6:00 am. How are you?" He closed his eyes in frustration. "I'm sorry, that was stupid of me." He was trying to fix his bed hair. "I saw you earlier. You were happy. I'm glad you had a good time."

Before he realized it, Diane was next to him. He felt his heart beating faster. He wasn't afraid. Kurt was never scared of Diane.

"Hi," he said.

Diane leaned over, kissed him on the cheek, softly said, "Thank you," and disappeared.

Christmas

The sound of someone knocking on his door woke Kurt up. He checked the time on his phone. It was almost 8:30 am. He thought of last night. Was it a dream? Did Diane kiss him on the cheek?

"Kurt, you up?"

It was Rose.

"I am. Come in."

Rose opened the door. "Merry Christmas, big brother."

"Merry Christmas, Rose," he smiled. "Is mom and Chris up?"

"Nah, they're still asleep. You want some breakfast?"

"Sure."

They had scrambled eggs and toast with grape jam.

"Were you talking to someone last night? I was heading to the kitchen to get water when I heard your voice," said Rose.

"Last night wasn't a dream," he thought. " I saw her, and she kissed me."

"Kurt?"

Kurt cleared his throat. "I was. I saw Diane's ghost."

Rose's eyes grew wider. "What does she look like?"

"She wears clothes from her time. The first time I saw her, she was in my room humming and looking at herself in the mirror."

"Do you see her often?"

"Not really, but she's around. You saw the proof. "

"Do you talk to Diane often?"

"Her summer home used to be here. I talk to her out of respect."

Rose nodded in agreement. 

They continued eating their eggs and toast when Rose asked, "Do you have feelings for her?"

Kurt almost choked on his toast. He drank some juice to swallow it down.

"Where did you get that crazy idea from?"

Rose shrugged her shoulders. "Just a feeling. It reminds me of a movie I watched for my Cinema Class. 'The Ghost & Mrs. Muir.' Have you heard of it?

"No."

"It's about a widow named Mrs. Muir. She moves into a house with her daughter that the previous owner haunts. She's the only one who can see him and starts writing a book about him. They slowly start to fall in love. You understand?"

"How does the movie end?"

"She dies of old age, and they finally get together in the afterlife."

Kurt scoffed. "That's a movie."

"Too many similarities," Rose smiled. "You moved into a home where she died over 100 years ago, you're the only one that can see her, and you're writing a book about her! Everything is connected."

Kurt thought about the kiss on the cheek and hoped he wasn't turning red. 

"You're being ridiculous. Come on, let's wake up mom and Chris up. 

After the gift exchange, Kurt's family went outside for a brief walk while Kurt was in his bedroom looking through the package Ms. Harris sent after Thanksgiving. It mainly contained newspaper clippings about the Lockhart family, Thomas Morton, and some pictures of Diane.

Kurt saw pictures of Diane online, but just holding her picture was different. She was a stunning woman, and her smile was the same as last night. He slowly traced her face and wished she was alive. He wanted to get to know her more, not from online or newspaper articles. What were her interests? Would they have gotten along? He wanted to hear her laughter. 

Diane's arrival was unexpected. The past couple of months had been interesting, and he couldn't imagine not having her in his life. Moving into the cabin was meant to be.

"Oh, fuck," he said aloud. 

No, it couldn't be. It's impossible. Was his sister right? Could he have fallen in love with a ghost?

Chapter Text

May 4, 1914

Diane found a Valentine's Day card and a single rose on her bed after she returned from lunch with Mrs. Gardiner. She thought it was odd since the holiday had been three months ago, but when she opened the card and read it, she nearly screamed. 

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

You will be mine

No matter who I'll destroy.

Love,

Your Secret Admirer

She didn't show it to anybody. Her father was in St. Louis meeting an old friend from his Yale days, and her mother was having terrible migraines for almost two weeks now. She could go to the police, but they might think it's a prank from a spurned suitor. No, she had to keep it to herself. But for the next week, she felt uneasy whenever she walked the streets. When night fell, she made sure the door was locked, and all the windows were tightly shut. It was rare for Diane to get frightened. She was only sleeping for a couple of hours, and whenever she heard a noise in the house, she jumped. 

Who sent her the card? How did they get inside her room in the first place? She had so many questions but couldn't find an answer that made sense.

February 14 (Valentine's Day)

February. The month of love. Sherwood High School was ready for its annual St. Valentine's Day dance, and Wendy was seeking chaperones for the event. She had her eye on a particular History teacher named Kurt McVeigh to help out, but she had always had her eye on him since the first day of school. When she asked him out for Halloween, and he rejected her, it hurt her feelings. She could have moved on, but she wasn't going to give up. One way or another, Wendy Holt was going to get her man.

Three days before the dance, Wendy cornered Kurt when he came out of the staff room. At first, he said no, but once she batted her eyes, he said yes. She had a date for the dance, even though he didn't know it was a date.

Now, she was in her room, putting on her tight, satin burgundy dress, which was against the dress code, but as the mayor's daughter, she got away with it. She made sure her red hair was straight, and she sprayed on Chanel No. 5. Wendy had to look good for Kurt; she had a good feeling that this dance was going to be a new beginning for them. They could be the  It couple of Sherwood, Illinois.

Kurt should have said no, but since he considered Wendy a friend, he did the favor. At least Matthew was going to be there so they could both be miserable. Wendy was going to pick him up since his trunk was as stubborn as a mule. It may be time for a new trunk. At 7:30 pm, on the dot, the doorbell rang. He answered it, and there was Wendy, wearing the tightest dress he had ever seen.

"Hi, Kurt. You look very handsome," smiled Wendy.

"Thank you. You look nice. Should we go?"

"Is it okay if I use your bathroom real quick?"

"Sure, it's down the hall, and it's the last door to the left."

Wendy went to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. She made sure her makeup was on point and her hair was still straight. She saw the way Kurt was looking at her bosom. The plan was working already. She wouldn't be surprised if they ended up sleeping together tonight.

"I hope he's a good dancer because if he has rhythm, he must be good in bed," she wickedly thought.

Wendy washed her hands and looked at the mirror again, but this time, it wasn't her reflection. It was a woman with long, blonde hair and pale blue eyes; her face was full of anger as if she wasn't too happy to see Wendy at all.

"Diane Lockhart," she whispered. The legend was true. She was haunting Kurt's cabin!

She started shaking, and when the ghost disappeared, she let out a scream. A second later, Kurt entered the bathroom.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

Wendy looked at the mirror again, but the ghost wasn't there anymore. She couldn't tell Kurt; she saw Diane Lockhart. She didn't want him to think she was crazy.

"I'm fine," she lied. "I thought I saw a mouse."

"A mouse?" Are you sure? Because the exterminator came last week, and everything was good." 

He took a glance at the bathroom but saw nothing.

"Let's go," she quickly said. "We don't want to be late."

Wendy ran out of the cabin, and Kurt grabbed his house keys. Before he left, he said, "Take care of the house, Diane."

Diane looked out the window and saw Kurt with the young woman named Wendy. She wasn't too happy at all. She couldn't understand these feelings at all. Why was she angry? Nothing made sense.

At the dance, Kurt had no choice but to dance with Wendy twice. The second dance, she was getting too chummy and gently squeezed his butt. Kurt had to excuse him and hid in the bathroom for at least ten minutes. When he came out, Wendy was dancing with Mr. Dalton, the Chemistry teacher, and Matthew was by the refreshments area, making sure nobody spiked the punch bowl. 

"Hey," said Matthew. "I was looking for you earlier. I saw Wendy getting handsy with you," he laughed.

"That's why I hid. You should ask her to dance."

Matthew shook his head; he was smiling huge. "I don't think my girlfriend would be too happy."

"Really? Congratulations."

"Thank you. We have been together since Thanksgiving, and I didn't jinx it. Her name is Jamila, and she teaches second grade in Chicago. We're celebrating our Valentine's Day this weekend."

"Enjoy yourself."

"Thanks. How is the book coming along? Making any progress?"

Kurt nodded. "I am. My sister Rose is a big help. She's digging deep. I discovered websites and videos that I had not known existed. I want to help Diane. I like her voice to be heard. It shouldn't be forgotten.

"This reminds me of the plot of the movie, 'The Ghost & Mrs. Muir, the female lead, writes a book about the male lead, and they fall in love."

"Rose told me the same thing to me."

"As long as you haven't fallen in love with Diane. That would be too weird," Matthew chuckled.

Kurt almost choked on his punch. "Yeah, weird," he laughed uncomfortably.

The dance ended at 11:00 pm, and Matthew offered to give Kurt a ride home. He accepted and said good night to Wendy, who was disappointed, and off they went.

The next day, Kurt woke up at nearly 9:00 am. After taking his shower, he went to the guest room, went to the notepad, and saw a question:

"Who is Wendy?"

He wrote: A co-worker from school. She teaches French.

Kurt went to the kitchen to make French toast and scrambled eggs. After he finished eating, he went back to the guest room and saw what Diane had written.

"Is she important to you? Because I also speak French, Italian, German, and Latin."

He wrote, Wendy is just a friend, nothing more. I love that you know all those languages.

It wasn't until much later that Kurt realized he had written 'love' in his answer.

The rest of the day, Kurt mainly was cleaning, doing laundry, and making dinner. It was around 4:00 pm when Wendy called. He took a deep breath and picked up.

"Hi, Wendy.

"Hi, Kurt. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. How about you?"

Kurt suddenly felt the living room getting cold, which was odd because the heat turned on a few minutes ago. Diane.

"I'm doing good. Did you have a good time at the dance?"

"It was interesting."

"I'm glad to hear that. It's too bad, we couldn't dance more. What are you doing now?"

"Making dinner."

"I'm making dinner, too. Do you want to come over? I'm making lasagna and garlic bread."

"Sorry, Wendy. My trunk is still not working."

"Oh, that's okay. I could bring you leftovers on Monday."

"That's fine. I'll see you on Monday."

"See you."

The kitchen was freezing, so Kurt said, "Okay, Diane. It's getting too cold."

The kitchen became warm again. "Thank you, Diane!"

That night, while Kurt was sleeping, Diane was fuming. What was going on with her? Why was she acting this way? Kurt had every right to see whoever he wanted. The woman that was in the cabin was beautiful. The way she looked at Kurt. Was that the type of woman he likes? It shouldn't have mattered to her. The woman named Wendy was alive, and she wasn't. 

What was it like speaking with Kurt?

To hold his hand?

To make him smile?

For the first time in over 100 years, she was crying for something she couldn't have.

Kurt woke up to the sound of a woman crying.

"Diane?" he wanted to say, but he kept silent.

Chapter Text

May 6, 1914

Diane and her father were in his study, talking about his trip to Ohio. Her mother still had terrible migraines and was mostly in her room. Diane wanted to tell her father about that horrible Valentine's Day card, but she remained shut. She was half paying attention to what her father was saying when he cleared his throat and asked,

"Are you okay, sweetheart?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Diane lied. "I just haven't been sleeping well."

"As I was saying, Jasper and I are ecstatic about the idea."

"Who, father?"

Mr. Lockhart looked annoyed but continued talking. "Jasper McVeigh, my friend from Yale. He wants me to be a partner in his law firm."

"Really?" Diane asked. "Do you want to do it?"

"I miss being in the court. I miss arguing," he wistfully smiled.

"Where is his firm? Here in Chicago?"

"No." Her father suddenly looked uncomfortable. "It's in Texas."

"Texas? Seriously? Have you told Mother yet?"

He shook his head. "You're the first to know."

"What about Yale? You looked forward to teaching."

"Yale can wait, Diane. This could be a new chapter, not just for me but for all of us."

"Mother won't be too pleased."

Diane's maternal grandfather and two uncles died during the Civil War. As long as she could remember, her mother had never wanted to deal with anyone from the South. When one of Diane's cousins married his wife, who was from North Carolina, her mother didn't go to the wedding and did her best to avoid them during family gatherings. She shunned that side of the family for good.

Her father sighed heavily. "I know, but the opportunity is too good to miss. I'm not young anymore, but this old lion still has a few rounds in him left. What do you think, daughter?"

Diane briefly smiled. "Honestly, I don't know. To leave Chicago?"

"Diane, you must understand, we're not wanted in Chicago anymore. They treat us like lepers because I made poor choices. This is a fresh start. Who knows, perhaps, your mother might be the Queen of Society in Texas?" he slightly chuckled.

"It is a shock. When does Mr. McVeigh want his answer?"

"Soon. You see, he wants to meet you."

Diane knew where this was going and got up. "I'm sorry, father. I would not marry Mr. McVeigh."

"It's not for him. For his eldest son, Kurtis," her father explained. "Please, sit down."

Diane did, but she was getting upset.

"Now, just listen."

"Mr. McVeigh has been looking for a bride for his son for the past couple of years. He's thirty, a doctor, and currently building his own home. He would be good for you."

Diane scoffed. "You're whoring me out to the highest bidder."

Mr. Lockhart's face turned red, and he slammed his hand on the desk.

Diane didn't flinch at all.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that ever again! Now, you listen to me, Diane Louisa Lockhart. One day, I'm going to be gone. Hopefully, not too soon, but eventually, I will. Your mother already told me about her plans to move back to New York after my funeral. She always hated Chicago. Now, your future doesn't look good. What would you do when I'm gone? If you were born a man, I wouldn't have to worry so much…"

"Well, I wasn't!" shouted Diane. "I wanted to follow in your footsteps. But I couldn't. I had to be a perfect doll for you and mother. I hated taking piano lessons. I hated my Latin teacher. I wanted to do so many things, but I couldn't because of my sex. I'm trapped, father. Please, don't do this to me. I will find my way. I could teach French to the Gardiners' daughters and…

Her father raised his hand, and she stopped talking.

"I'm sorry, Diane. My mind is made up. I'm looking out for you. This marriage would benefit you."

"Correction, it would benefit you," Diane harshly said. "You and mother are the same."

Mr. Lockhart took out a folded piece of paper from his jacket and gave it to her.

"Here. This is the current address of Mr. McVeigh's son. Please start writing to him. The sooner, the better."

Diane took the paper and said to her father, "Congratulations, father. You just sold your daughter."

Two weeks had passed since the Valentine's Day dance, and Kurt was keeping himself busy. For lunch, he would usually go to the school library to conduct research, and his notebook was filled to the brim with a wealth of information. Rose was doing an outstanding job as his assistant. One morning, his sister texted to call Aunt Cordelia when he had the chance. She supposedly had some information for him.

Aunt Cordelia was his dad's younger sister, who was a photographer for National Geographic. Kurt rarely saw his aunt, as she was mainly traveling, but they had a good relationship. He called her up one Friday when school had a half-day. He was at the diner having lunch when he called her.

"Hey, Kurt. How is my favorite nephew doing?"

"I'm good, Aunt Cordy. How was Mexico?"

"Wonderful. I got a tan, made new friends, and took fantastic pictures."

"I'm glad. Rose told me, "You wanted to talk to me?"

"I sure did. You're planning to write a book about Diane Lockhart?"

"I am. Rose is helping with some research. Why?"

"Well, you know I started doing the family tree a couple of years ago, and she mentioned the name; it sounded familiar to me."

Kurt heard the sound of papers rustling in the background when his aunt finally said, "Found them. Okay, it seemed there were talks of an engagement between Ms. Lockhart and your great-grandfather Kurtis McVeigh."

Kurt felt as though someone had thrown a bucket of ice over his head. Did he hear that correctly? Diane and his great-grandfather? No, it had to be wrong.

"Hello? Are you still there?"

Kurt snapped out of it. "They were engaged?"

"No, they only wrote a couple of letters to each other, nothing too steamy," she chuckled.

"How did they meet?" Kurt's throat suddenly felt dry, and he had no idea how he managed to talk.

"They never did. In Kurtis's journal, he was supposed to meet her during the Fourth of July weekend, but the day before, she disappeared. He was part of the search party."

"I'm amazed, Aunt Cordy. Is it possible for you to send me the letters and the journal?"

"I can't. They're too fragile. You know what? I can scan them and send them to you by email. Is that okay for you?"

"Sure. Thank you."

"Anytime, Kurt. If I have any more information, I'll give you a call."

"Thank you again, Aunt Cordelia. I'll own you one."

"I can't wait to have a copy of the book, nephew. Good luck."

Kurt said his goodbyes and took a deep breath, trying to process the information he just heard.

Was it meant for him to move into the cabin?

 From the very beginning, he felt a connection, and now he knew why. 

Chapter Text

May 10, 1914

Miss Lockhart,

I'm unsure of how to begin this letter. I am a man of few words, but I will do my best. My full name is Kurtis Andrew McVeigh, and I'm thirty years old. I graduated from the Johns Hopkins School of Medicine last year and opened my clinic in Creeksville, Texas, where I was born and raised. You're probably not too happy about what our fathers did. I don't blame you. My father and I had a long argument, and we're being cordial for the time being. But I promised him I would write to you and nothing more. If you do not respond, I will understand. 

Kurtis McVeigh

May 16, 1914

Mr. McVeigh,

I received your letter two days ago, and I was debating whether to answer you or not, but it would be rude of me. My name is Diane Louisa Lockhart, and I'm twenty-seven years old, born and raised in Chicago. Like yourself, my father and I are being cordial, but I am still furious with him. My mother is unaware of this arrangement. I'm not sure if my father mentioned my past engagements to your father, but if he didn't, I'll tell you about them. I broke off my first engagement with Cary because I only saw him as a brother. Henri, because he preferred the company of the same sex. My third fiancé, Jack, died in a carriage accident when I was starting to develop feelings for him. At the time, the press thought I was cursed in love. So you see, Mr. McVeigh, I am not destined to be married at all. 

Diane Lockhart

May 26, 1914

Miss Lockhart,

As the eldest son, I feel pressure to get married. A couple of years ago, I was engaged to my childhood sweetheart, Bethany, but two months into the engagement, she died of the measles. I was heartbroken, and the thought of marriage made me sick for years. A year ago, while staying in Baltimore with one of my former professors, I met his daughter Julia, and it was love at first sight for me. She made me laugh again. We talked about the future, and yes, we wanted to get married, but her mother thought she could do better. So, I understand what it's like to be cursed in love.

Kurtis McVeigh

June 3, 1914

Mr. McVeigh,

Since turning sixteen, the ropes are getting tighter every year. You were lucky to be born a man. At least, you continued your education. How I longed to attend university, pursue a career in law, and follow in my father's footsteps. I am frightened of the future. There are days I want to escape and build a new life. I could see myself living in the French countryside or Lake Como. Who knows what life would bring us?

Diane Lockhart

June 10, 1914

Miss Lockhart,

My father and I are arriving in Chicago on July 1 . I want to get to know you better. We have more in common than you think. No pressure at all.

Kurtis McVeigh

June 17, 1914

Mr. McVeigh,

I must admit, I am also curious to meet you. You may be right. We may have more in common than we thought. It would be my pleasure to meet you.

Diane Lockhart

From The Journal of Kurtis McVeigh

July 6, 1914

This weekend was supposed to be a fantastic weekend for me and Miss Lockhart. After exchanging several letters, we were going to have our first meeting on the Fourth of July. Despite our letters being brief, I was curious to know more about her. What type of books does she like? Does she like going to the picture shows? Now, I can't ask those questions. Now, I'm in the search party looking for her. The day before we were supposed to meet, she went for a walk after breakfast and never came back. The only thing that was left behind was her hat, which was covered in blood. What happened to her? Who took her?

July 7, 1914

The police arrived at the Lockharts' home after breakfast. They are questioning everyone in the small town of Sherwood about the disappearance of Miss Lockhart. When they asked me about my connection with Diane, I told them I was a potential fiancé for Miss Lockhart. I regretted my words the second they came out because Mrs. Lockhart's expression wasn't too happy. I forgot; she didn't know about the arrangement.

Father is planning to leave in three days, but I decided to stay here in case she does return.

July 15, 1914

It has been twelve days since the disappearance of Miss Lockhart. The papers are writing nonstop about her, but it's mostly rumors and theories. People are speculating that she ran away with a lover and is living in California under a new name. Three days before, a medium wrote a letter to Mr. Lockhart that she was no longer part of this world. 

"Damn, con artists," he said, ripping the letter up.

Last night, I couldn't fall asleep and decided to take a peek inside Miss Lockhart's room. Her bookshelf was full of the classics. Austen, Bronte, Tolstoy, and Shakespeare. A copy of Room With A View was on her bed. Her dresses and her hats in the closet, her shoes in order. My letters were on her desk, and for some reason I couldn't explain I took them.

July 16, 1914

This morning, Mr. Lockhart and I discussed the situation in Europe. Since the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, tensions were brewing. There are rumors about war. We were finishing our breakfast when I heard Mrs. Lockhart scream. Since learning about the potential engagement between her daughter and me, Mrs. Lockhart had been ignoring me. She took her meals in her room, and whenever she saw me, she quickly left the room. She rarely goes outside, and sometimes when I pass her room, I hear her crying. 

"It's my fault! I brought that vile man into our lives!"

Mr. Lockhart excused himself and went upstairs to his wife's room. They were yelling, and Mrs. Lockhart said,

"I just know she's gone, James! She's no longer here!"

"Calm yourself, Louisa! We will find our daughter. We can't lose hope."

Mrs. Lockhart couldn't stop screaming, and I heard a loud slap. 

A few minutes later, Mr. Lockhart came downstairs.

"I'm sorry, you had to hear that, Mr. McVeigh."

"Is your wife okay?"

"She will be, once we find Diane."

"What man was she talking about, Mr. Lockhart?"

Mr. Lockhart sighed and said, "A couple of months ago, my wife went to see a so-called medicine man named Thomas Morton for a love potion for our daughter. I didn't know anything about this until Diane's disappearance. A bunch of bull."

"Do you think this man took your daughter?"

"If he did, I would make his life a living hell."

July 20, 1914

Two days ago, the police went to Mr. Morton's apartment to interview him, but found him dead. The cause was alcohol poisoning. They did find clues in the spare bedroom. A food tray that was covered in flies, a pillow with blood, and a pair of lace gloves that belonged to Diane. They believe that Mr. Morton kidnapped Diane, held her hostage, and killed her. But where is her body? 

July 22, 1914

I am heading back to Texas. Words can't express how I am feeling.

August 9, 1914

Father told me this morning that the Lockharts' summer mansion burned to the ground last night. What a pity. Nobody knew who did. A month has passed since Miss Lockhart was murdered. The newspapers still think she disappeared, but Mr. Lockhart bribed the police to hide the truth. It's heartbreaking. I hope one day, her body will be recovered and she will find peace at last.

Chapter Text

July 1914

For the past couple of days, Diane has been in a bedroom with no windows. No matter how much she banged on the door and screamed, she was ignored. The door opened twice a day for breakfast and dinner. A man wearing a black mask entered, left the tray of food on the floor, and then departed. Diane only ate a little each day and prayed somebody would find her.

Who was doing this? Was the man a former client of her father's? Did he want revenge? Whenever she asked those questions of the mysterious man, he never answered.

One morning, Diane woke up and knew she was going to die soon. Nobody was going to rescue her. The thought brought her peace. She no longer felt like crying. She had no more tears to shed. Diane hoped she would die in her sleep; it would be a good way to die.

It was on the same day that her captor finally spoke to her. He took off his mask, revealing himself. He had light curly brown hair, hazel eyes, and black circles around his eyes.

"Hello, Diane," he softly said.

"Who are you?" she coughed.

"My name is Thomas Morton. I'm your husband."

Diane scoffed. "I would have known if I were married, Mr. Morton. I don't even know you."

"You will, Diane," he smiled, taking her right hand, but Diane quickly pulled it away.

"It's Miss Lockhart," she corrected him. "Why are you doing this? Please, take me home!"

"I'm sorry, my dear," he sadly said. "I just can't let you go."

"Why not? I'm giving you the chance to take me back to my family. If you do, I won't tell the police. I'll tell them I argued with my parents, and that's why I ran off. We would pretend this never happened, understand?''

Diane hoped this would get through to him. He had to understand that what he was doing made no sense at all.

Mr. Morton shook his head. "I can't, sweet Diane. You see, you and I are now forever bonded. I fell in love with you at first sight. We are meant to be together." 

"You're crazy! Please, just let me go!" she pleaded, tears were streaming down her face.

He gave her a sad smile and left the room.

The following morning, when Mr. Morton came to the room with breakfast, he saw Diane in the bed, her eyes closed. She looked beautiful, like a marble statue, but something felt odd in the room. When he touched her hand, it was ice cold.

"Diane?" he whispered. "Is she dead?"

He shook her roughly, but her eyes never opened. 

"No!" he cried. "Don't leave me! We were supposed to be together. Wake up, my love!"

Diane opened her eyes and realized she was back in her room at Sherwood. She sighed in relief. The nightmare was over. No more of Mr. Morton. But she was confused. How did she get home? Did the police rescue her? What was her parents' reaction when she was finally home? Diane's mind was fuzzy. 

She realized she was still wearing the same clothes the day she was kidnapped. How long was she home?

"Fire!" her father yelled.

Diane jumped from her bed and went to the hallway. She looked to her left and saw her father running from his room, and she saw fire coming from her mother's room.

"Mother!"

She was about to run to her mother's room, but the smoke was too thick. Diane ran down the stairs and escaped outside. Thankfully, her mother was there with the maid, Patricia, holding her. The cook, Augusta, was crying. Her mother looked at her and smiled. 

"Diane, you're here!"

"Of course, mother. I'm glad, all of us are safe."

"Louisa, are you okay? Who are you talking to?" asked her father, who was walking towards them.

"Diane is here."

"My dear. You're seeing things."

"No, I'm not! She's right in front of us, Richard!"

"Father, what's going on?" asked Diane, but her father didn't answer her.

"Louisa, did you start the fire?"

Her mother nodded and said, "It's my fault, Richard. I led Diane to her death."

"Be quiet," he warned, eyeing Patricia and Augusta. "That man was delusional."

"It's true! All because I meddle in her life." She started to cry. "Our only child is gone because of me!"

She knelt to the ground and started to rock back and forth.

Diane saw that the majority of the town was gathering to watch the mansion burn to the ground. 

"Father, what's going on with mother?" she asked, but once again her father wasn't paying attention to her. When she tried to touch his shoulder, her hand went through it.

She gasped. "No," she thought. It's not possible. Was she dead?

"I hear our daughter speaking," her mother said. "How come you don't believe me?"

"Louisa, once we get back to Chicago, we're going to see Dr. Wilson."

Her mother nodded, and her husband held her.

The only time Diane's father saw her was the following year, minutes before he had his heart attack. He was reading the newspaper in his study when she appeared in front of him.

"Diane?" he whispered, his voice filled with happiness.

"Father."

He couldn't believe his precious daughter was standing before him, but his happiness was fleeting. Pain shot through his left side; he clutched his heart and collapsed on the floor. Her mother was the one who found him.

Years later, she saw her mother before she passed away.

"I'm sorry, Diane."

"I forgive you, mother."

Time passed, and Diane saw that a cabin had been built where the mansion once stood. Diane didn't know why she chose to stay in Sherwood. The majority of her life was in Chicago, but Sherwood did bring happy memories. As the decades passed, people came and went. Some were good, but others were rude and noisy. It was during this time that she developed her powers and scared the ones who didn't respect the property. 

It worked, and the cabin remained empty for years until a newlywed couple brought it and made the place brand new. Diane thought they were a lovely couple, and they were planning to start a family soon. But then she noticed the husband was bringing someone into the cabin that wasn't his wife, and she had no choice but to scare the couple away. She hoped the wife would find the truth about her husband one day.

Then Kurt came. He stayed no matter what she did. She found hope and love, and she didn't want those feelings to go away soon.