Chapter Text
“Welcome to Woodstone B&B!” Sam exclaimed with a wide smile as the guests stepped inside. A young couple crossed the foyer.
The woman smiled and said, “Thank you.” She was in her thirties, with blue eyes and dark, wavy hair in a half-up, half-down style. The child was almost hiding behind her mother, who was wearing a white dress with small purple and green flowers.
“She’s hot,” Trevor commented as he stood with Sass in a corner of the hall, not far from the welcome desk. “Too bad she’s got the whole package already.” When Sass gave him a questioning look, he explained, “Kid and husband.”
Trevor noticed Sam glaring at him before she turned her attention to the family. “I’m Sam, and I run this place with my husband, Jay, who is also the chef at the nearby restaurant, Mahesh.”
“She really needs to work on her introduction,” Sass whispered to Trevor, making absolutely no effort to keep his voice down. “She makes it sound like a TV advertisement.”
Trevor snickered. Sam cleared her throat pointedly, making it clear that she'd heard every word. “I hope you had a good drive and found us easily,” she added to her guests.
“We have, thank you,” the man replied, setting his luggage down. “I’m John, and this is my wife, Ella…”
“And…” his wife continued as she crouched down and took the little girl in her arms. “This is our daughter, Mia. Say hi, sweetheart.”
Mia shyly waved before hiding her face in the crook of her mother’s neck. The little girl looked like a smaller version of Ella, with the same blue eyes but curlier hair. She wore a simple lilac dress and clutched a small plush dog to her chest.
“Hi, Mia, I’m Sam.” Sam smiled at the girl. “Do you like chocolate cookies? My husband Jay baked them this morning.” The girl nodded. “Then I’ll bring some to your room.”
“What do we say, Mia?” her mother asked.
Mia gave Sam a bright smile. “Thank you.”
Ella kissed her daughter’s temple before putting her down. She and John then began discussing their accommodation and the available excursions with Sam, while Mia quietly wandered a few steps away.
“What do we have here?” Hetty asked, curiosity in her voice as she and Alberta joined Sass and Trevor.
“New guests,” Sass said simply.
“Interesting… feels like it’s been a while since we had any,” Alberta pointed out.
“Because it was,” Hetty replied simply. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Trevor grinning beside her.
“I could use a distraction,” Alberta went on, unbothered. “Maybe I could sing this little angel to sleep,” she added when she noticed the little girl wandering around the hall.
“Thor would be jealous. Singing children to sleep is his specialty,” Sass warned her.
“Yeah, you don’t want your hand chopped off…” Trevor added. “Or worse…”
“Well, I am the renowned singer!” Alberta shot back, offended. “I can sing children to sleep better than anyone else!”
“Can you all keep quiet?” Hetty demanded, slightly annoyed. “I want to hear if Samantha manages to welcome the guests without creeping them out.”
“I heard that,” Sam let slip, glaring at Hetty before realizing there were people standing in front of her. Real people. “I heard that… it’s still pretty hot in the city for late September.”
“Smooth recovery,” Hetty commented.
“Oh, definitely,” Ella replied. “I can already feel how much cooler the air is here. This gentle breeze is very pleasant.”
Trevor's smile faded when he noticed Mia staring past her parents, her eyes fixed on something behind them. “Hey, guys…” he said hesitantly. “Can she see us?”
Hetty turned to follow Trevor’s gaze and saw the little girl staring at them. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched Mia run toward them, her soft brown curls bouncing with every step.
“I think it can happen with children,” Sass whispered, suddenly worried that the little girl could hear them. “Remember Mark’s son?”
“And Hetty could see Thor when she was little…” Alberta pointed out.
“Oh yeah, she can definitely see us,” Trevor said as the girl stopped in front of them, observing each of them with a curious look.
Mia’s gaze settled on Hetty. Her bright blue eyes met Hetty’s older ones. “Are you a princess?” she asked with a wide smile. “You have a princess dress!”
Hetty tensed. She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her throat tightened, and her hand instinctively reached for her lace collar. For a moment, she was somewhere else, her gaze still locked on Mia’s.
“Not a princess, kid.” Trevor’s playful voice broke through her thoughts. “She is the queen who owns the whole place.”
“Really?” Mia asked, impressed.
“Really.” Trevor nodded. He glanced at Hetty, surprised she hadn’t reacted. Not a quick, sharp remark about how the word “princess” made her skin crawl. Not a glaring look or even a nudge to Trevor for his comment. Nothing. She seemed frozen.
“And I am a singer!” Alberta chimed in, claiming the spotlight. “A very famous one, I’ll have you know.”
Hetty remained still for another moment before shaking her head. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than babysit a little scoundrel.” She gathered the hem of her skirt as she stepped around Mia and walked away.
That was odd, Trevor thought as he watched her disappear.
Sam glanced at the ghosts and spotted Mia. Ella must have followed her gaze because she smiled apologetically. “Oh, I’m sorry. Mia has this habit of talking to herself.” She paused. “She says she has a lot of friends… must be some kind of imaginary friends.”
“Children have great imaginations.” Sam smiled before glancing at the ghosts, who merely shrugged.
Before Mia could say anything to the three remaining ghosts, Ella approached her, took her hand, and told her it was time to see their room. The child followed her mother obediently, waving bye-bye to Sass, Trevor, and Alberta.
Trevor watched as Mia disappeared up the staircase with her parents and wondered why this little girl unsettled Hetty so much. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but Hetty’s tense posture and unusual silence had made one thing clear: something was wrong.
“I beg you three to behave around Mia. Please,” Sam whispered to them before hurrying after the family to show them their room.
The small group scattered. Sass went outside to check if the tree branch he had been watching for years was finally about to break. Alberta mumbled something about Momoa and a magazine. Trevor lingered in the hall for a few more seconds, wondering whether he should mind his own business. Hetty certainly wouldn't appreciate him poking his nose into whatever was bothering her, but the image of her frozen expression kept coming back to him.
“To hell with that...” he muttered when he finally decided to go check on Hetty.
Trevor sighed, already annoyed. He had been looking for Hetty for the last thirty minutes, but she was nowhere to be found. If she was hiding from the world, she was doing a pretty good job at it. He had checked the parlor, the kitchen, the study, the TV room… Nothing. He had called out to her from outside her bedroom and had even risked looking inside when she didn't answer. He had half expected Hetty to catch him and kick him out, but the room was empty. He had even checked the library, though he knew it wasn't a place she particularly liked, given her history.
Trevor went back to his room and was surprised to find Mia sitting on the couch, watching TV.
Great, Trevor thought. Was it too late to turn around and leave?
“Hi!” Mia said, waving. “Sam said I can watch TV…”
Yes, it definitely was. Trevor forced a smile and took a few steps forward. “Oh yeah, sure…
“What’s your name?” Mia asked, looking up at him.
“Trevor. And you’re Mia, right?” Mia nodded and turned back to the TV. “What are you watching?” he asked, trying to make conversation even though he didn't know why he was doing it.
“Gabby’s Dollhouse,” she replied, her eyes not leaving the screen.
“Oh, okay.” Trevor had no clue what it was, but he could see a girl and some cats bouncing around on the screen. At least it would keep the child busy, and he could think about his next move with Hetty.
Or not…
“What’s the queen’s name?” Mia asked after a moment.
“Hetty.”
“Hetty,” she repeated, as if testing how it sounded. “It’s pretty.”
“She’s pretty.” The words slipped out before Trevor could stop them as he watched some silly cats dancing and singing on the screen. How could he get so easily distracted? he wondered. He was thankful no one was around; the other ghosts would never have let him hear the end of it. Then again, he wasn't sure a four-year-old made for the best confidante.
“Do you like the queen?” she asked, turning away from the cartoon to look at him.
Trevor froze, scrambling for an answer. “Everybody likes the queen.”
Mia, though, didn’t look convinced. She studied him, and Trevor shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “But you like her more.”
“I… um…” This was getting uncomfortable. And ridiculous. He was being grilled by a little girl who couldn’t be more than four. Hetty—classic Hetty—would never let him live this down.
“You look at her a lot,” Mia said. “And you smile… like my Daddy when he looks at Mama.
“I do not!” he exclaimed.
“You do. I saw you.”
Okay, now he was terrified of the kid. Trevor had no idea what to say anymore.
“Then you can be the king,” she concluded, and Trevor was sure that if he spent another minute with that child, the next step would be planning their wedding. “But where are your pants?” she asked with a frown.
Of course… Trevor closed his eyes and sighed. He wanted this torture to be over. Mia was way worse than any FBI profiler during an interrogation—not that he'd ever experienced one. He'd watched that show about profilers with Sam, though, and he was pretty sure even they couldn't have gotten this much out of him.
“Mia, sweetheart, come with me, we’re going for a walk with Daddy.”
Mia jumped off the couch and ran into the hallway after her mother. “I’m coming, Mama!”
Trevor stood and walked to the threshold, watching Mia run down the hallway. He intended to resume his search for Hetty, but then he spotted her on the opposite side of the hallway, an unreadable expression on her face. She looked as if she were frozen in place, lost in her thoughts.
I’m coming, Mama…
“Hetty?” Trevor called gently as he approached her.
Hetty seemed to snap out of her thoughts. “Excuse me,” she whispered, lowering her gaze as she walked away.
“Hetty, wait!” Trevor called, following her. When she stepped inside her bedroom, he hesitated for a split second before doing the same. He'd deal with the consequences later.
“Trevor, what are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to overstep…” he replied as he stood uncomfortably by the door.
“You already are,” she snapped.
Trevor took a few hesitant steps toward her. “Hetty, I’m worried about you.”
She let out a dry laugh. “I’m fine.”
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Trevor replied. “No pun intended.”
Hetty tensed. Her eyes hardened. “You know nothing.”
“Then tell me. I’m here, I’m listening,” he said gently.
“It is none of your business,” she replied dryly. “Now if you will please excuse me, I want to be alone.”
Trevor seemed to consider her words. He turned toward the door, taking a step before stopping. After a moment, he looked back at her. “What’s so terrifying about that little girl?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh please, Hetty. I noticed how tense you got. And you had no witty remark, no cutting observation in response to Mia’s question about you being a princess… you didn’t even react to my comment.”
“I don’t need to react to every foolish thing you say,” she retorted.
“Classic Hetty would,” he reminded her. “She would waste no time in teasing me and making me feel like a fool.”
“Maybe she simply got tired of you and your exhausting personality.”
Trevor sighed. He tried to catch Hetty’s gaze, but she kept avoiding his eyes. “I see what you’re doing, Hetty,” he said softly. “You’re not really pushing me away.” Hetty slowly looked up at him. She seemed… surprised. By his words? By his tone? He wasn’t sure. “What is going on?” he asked her gently.
Then her face hardened again. “This is a topic I’d rather not discuss.”
“Okay,” he whispered.
“Okay?” Hetty repeated, arching an eyebrow.
“Yeah…” Trevor's voice softened. “I’m not going to pressure you into talking about things you don’t want to.” Hetty seemed once again surprised. “But I can just stay here and keep you company. We don’t have to talk at all. I can stay silent. What do you say?”
Hetty seemed to weigh his offer for a few moments before saying, “This is ridiculous.”
“What? You don’t think I can keep my mouth shut? I’m not some four-year-old kid.” He noticed Hetty flinch. “I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he added with a teasing smile, pretending not to notice the shift in her mood. “As long as you keep yours to yourself.”
“Oh, because you’re so irresistible,” she retorted, rolling her eyes.
“Well, I believe you liked my fingers… a lot,” he teased.
“Trevor,” she warned him.
“Okay, sorry. I’ll take the couch and shut up now,” he said, raising his hands in surrender before sitting down.
“It’s not a couch, it’s a settee,” she corrected, as if that distinction changed the whole situation.
“Yeah, whatever…” Trevor said with a soft smile.
Hetty shook her head. He was insufferably persistent, but somewhere deep down, she was glad he was. She watched him silently from her bed for a while. When she saw him settling comfortably on the settee, she asked with a frown, “Must you take up station on my settee as though you were my personal sentinel?”
“I need to sleep.” He shrugged.
“You have your own room,” she reminded him. “We didn’t go through all that trouble to get our private rooms back just to end up as roommates.”
“It’s just for one night, Hetty.” Hetty sighed and lay down on her bed. She was trying to get comfortable when Trevor's voice broke the silence. “Night, Hetty…”
“Goodnight, Trevor,” she replied, still annoyed, before closing her eyes.
Trevor couldn’t sleep. He had to admit that the couch—settee, or whatever—was really uncomfortable. He might be forever thirty-three, but he was sure he’d feel sore in the morning. If ghosts could even feel sore, that is. Guess he’d find out soon enough.
He tried to turn onto his right side, careful not to fall because there was so little space. The new position was somehow worse than the previous one. He sighed. He wasn’t going to get any sleep anyway, not with his mind constantly returning to Hetty and wondering what could possibly be upsetting her so much.
Trevor heard a faint rustle from the bed, as if Hetty were turning over. Was she awake as well? Then another rustle… and another. Trevor frowned and sat up, peering toward the bed. He couldn’t see much, but the moonlight revealed Hetty’s figure shifting restlessly. A low whine filled the silence.
“Hetty?” Trevor whispered as he got up from the couch. He crossed the room quickly, his eyes fixed on her. Hetty tossed in her sleep, her body twisting as though she were trying to escape something.
“No…” she whimpered, her fingers tightening around the pillow. “No, please, no!” Her voice rose.
“Hetty,” Trevor called to her, his voice firm but gentle.
Trevor cautiously reached for her arm, but the moment he touched her, Hetty jerked away. “NO!” He removed his hand, startled. “Please, no…” The desperation in her voice unsettled him. “Please, Elias, don’t do this to me.”
Trevor froze at the mention of Hetty’s husband. Her breathing grew faster, more ragged.
“Please.” She was crying, and once again she started tossing in her sleep, as if she were fighting something… or someone. Trevor felt sick at the thought.
“Hetty, wake up!” he called, his voice louder but still gentle. “It’s me. It’s Trevor.” He reached for her again and gave her arm a tentative shake. Her hand snapped around his wrist, startling him. She abruptly sat up in bed, her breathing still ragged. “It’s okay, Hetty. You had a nightmare.” Her grip on his wrist was still strong. He could feel her nails digging into his skin. “It’s me, Trevor. You’re safe,” he whispered, hesitantly placing his other hand on her back and rubbing it soothingly. “You had a nightmare. It’s over now. You’re safe.” Trevor heard a soft sigh escape her. Her grip gradually loosened until she finally let go of his wrist.
“I’m sorry…” she whispered after a while, her voice slightly shaking. For the nightmare? For gripping his wrist so tightly? For frightening him?
“Hey, it’s okay,” Trevor whispered, his hand continuing to move gently across her back. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You just had a nightmare. It’s over now. You’re safe…” he reassured her, though he couldn’t forget her words or the desperate way she had begged Elias to stop. The nightmare only added to the worry he'd already been feeling, and now he had even more questions, but he knew he couldn't ask her without upsetting her.
Hetty finally turned her head to face him. There were still traces of tears on her cheeks. She tried to wipe them off with the hem of her sleeve. When she met his gaze, she looked frightened. Trevor assumed it was because of the nightmare.
“You shouldn’t have stayed,” Hetty whispered, her voice still strained. Trevor wondered if the fear in her eyes was because he had seen too much.
“Hetty,” he whispered.
“No.” She gathered the folds of her skirt and rose from the bed, pushing past Trevor. “Please just leave me alone, Trevor,” she told him before walking to the door. She stopped and turned around. “Please,” she repeated, her voice shaking.
She walked through the door, leaving Trevor sitting on the bed. Please. The aching desperation in her voice convinced him to let her go.
The house was slowly coming to life with the first rays of sun, though they had yet to bring any warmth to Hetty’s face. She had gone to the parlor after spending the night wandering outside the mansion, as she sometimes did when sleep eluded her. Going for long, slow strolls under the moonlight usually calmed the storm she felt inside.
Not tonight, though…
Sitting in the armchair near the window, she had watched the rest of the night go by, determined to avoid returning to her room, where Trevor was still camped out on the settee.
Trevor…
Hetty felt bad at the thought. He had been—surprisingly—understanding and caring, while she had been nothing but harsh and avoidant. She had thought she was good at hiding her discomfort, but he had seen through her so easily… she hated that. Hated that he had somehow developed the ability to read her like a book.
A bad, calamitous and uninviting book.
Something fell to the floor in the kitchen, startling her. She heard muffled voices and assumed Jay was making breakfast for the guests.
Oh. The guests.
Hetty turned her attention back to the window as she distractedly smoothed the folds of her skirt. Pete interrupted her thoughts with a far-too-joyous—but, thank God, brief—good morning. Hetty had replied politely, though her first thought had been that such a gleeful attitude so early in the morning should be prohibited. On another day, she would have told Pete so. Today she didn’t even want to make that effort.
Hetty didn’t know how much time had passed since that interruption, but she was relieved no one had been looking for her. And by no one, she meant Trevor above all.
“Mia, sweetheart, can you sit here while we wait for Daddy?” Ella’s voice interrupted the silence. “I’m going to tell Jay we’re ready for breakfast.”
“Okay, Mama.”
Before Hetty could react, Mia appeared in the corner of her eye. She settled onto the couch, a book on her lap. Hetty eyed her discreetly and was relieved to see that the child was absorbed in her book. She turned her attention to the window again. Perhaps they could just keep ignoring each other.
Or not…
“Queen Hetty?”
Hetty rolled her eyes. On another day she would have taken pride in that title, or made a comment about how someone had finally recognized her real importance… but right now she wanted to find a way to kill Trevor for instilling that ridiculous title in the child’s head.
“Do not call me that,” she replied, not even looking at the child.
“Princess Hetty?” Mia asked hesitantly.
“It’s still a no.”
“Why?” she asked with a pout.
“Because…” she began, her voice rising slightly. “I said so.”
“That’s not an answer.”
This was becoming tiresome… Hetty sighed. How long could it possibly take Jay to serve breakfast? If he had been one of her servants, she would have fired him right away.
Hetty sensed movement nearby. When she turned her head, she found Mia standing in front of her, examining her as if she were one of Sargent’s portraits.
“You look sad,” the little girl finally said.
“I am not,” Hetty replied.
“Your eyes are sad.” Mia continued to study her. Hetty closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Why are you sad?”
Hetty turned to face the child and was immediately met with blue eyes full of genuine care. Just like Trevor’s last night. She couldn’t bear it. Hetty straightened her posture. “Don’t you have something better to do?” she snapped, though the harshness tasted bitter the moment it left her mouth. “Why don’t you go read your book full of ridiculous illusory creatures and just leave me alone?”
The moment she saw tears welling in Mia’s eyes, Hetty's stomach dropped.
“Mia, come here. Breakfast’s ready,” her mother called to her from the dining room.
Mia didn’t move. She kept staring at Hetty with tears in her eyes. The sight was unbearable for Hetty. She lifted a hand, instinctively reaching toward her, but stopped halfway. She couldn’t touch the child. Her hand lingered in the air for a moment before she lowered it back to her lap.
“Darling…” she whispered, her voice shaking.
I’m sorry…
Mia shook her head, hurried to the couch, and grabbed her book. Hetty followed her with her gaze until she noticed Trevor standing on the threshold of the parlor. Mia neared him. “Why doesn’t she like me?” Hetty heard her ask Trevor, her voice small and wounded.
Mia didn’t give Trevor time to answer, and he was glad she didn’t. He truly had no idea what to say. The little girl had already left, joining her mother in the dining room. Trevor finally met Hetty’s gaze and noticed the tears glistening in her eyes. She looked shaken.
“Hetty…” he whispered.
She merely shook her head, unable to trust her voice, and quickly walked away, her dress brushing against his legs as she passed by.