Chapter One
The estate agent had used the word "character" fourteen times in her listing, which Tariq Hassani had learned, over a career in property renovation, was real estate code for "problems." Grey Manor had character in abundance: Victorian Gothic architecture in various stages of dignified collapse, gardens that had returned to wilderness with evident enthusiasm, and a ballroom whose chandelier hung at an angle that suggested either artistic intent or imminent structural failure.
He moved his family in on a Saturday in October, when the light was low and golden and kind to the building's imperfections. His wife, Leila, fell in love with the library. His daughter, Noor, claimed the tower bedroom. His son, Idris, found the cellar within an hour and emerged to report that it was "creepy in a good way." Tariq privately noted that the house's temperature dropped by exactly five degrees every time he entered the east wing, and that the family cat refused to cross the threshold of the master bedroom.
The first ghost appeared on the third night. Noor came downstairs at two in the morning, not frightened but confused, and said there was a woman in her room who was crying and trying to open the window. "She keeps pulling at the latch," Noor said, "but her hands go through it. She looked at me and she said, 'Please. It will not let me leave.'" Tariq went upstairs with a torch and found the