Instincts told me to run. Even before I left for my new home in Haven River, something was trying to pull me away from this town, this house. The warnings were as subtle as the unsavory teleplay and as stark as the town ghost story of my home. They piled up on my conscience and stole the rest from my nights. After two sleepless nights, I gave up and took a sleeping pill to escape my spinning thoughts. The confused cloud of the drug blurred the edges as I woke only a few hours later to the warble of Marion Harris singing It Had to Be You. It floated into my bedroom and pulled me from my needed slumber. The cracks and pops of a record player accented the big band her voice soared seamlessly over.

Had I been of sound mind, I would have recalled that I neither had a record player nor a Marion Harris album, but the medicine's toll was tugging at my senses and feet. The wood of the stairs felt warm and soft on my feet as I padded down them, thinking nothing of the bare hallway. I'd had little time to unpack, let alone decorate. The living room was a much different sight. Instead of the clutter of partially emptied boxes I had left, the living room I entered was smartly appointed with decorative shuttle-woven fabric-covered sitting room furniture in a decidedly late 1920s feel. The rich red silk was accented with gold and silver threads that seemed to collect the warmth of the fire roaring in the fireplace.

Before rationality could take its firm grip on me, my sense of smell drew me to the kitchen, where a roast sizzled within a vintage stove. Dizzying checkerboard flooring replaced the plain stone tile I knew should line the floor. Still, my dulled sense didn't pique with alert.

No, that was reserved for the echoing voice of a woman singing Hush Little Baby with a vacant giggle from upstairs. I should have run out the front door, got in my car, and driven back to Washington, DC, without even looking back, but the voice was pulling me in like a moth to a flame. I followed the creaky singing until I pushed open the door to the spare bedroom. It should have been empty, but now a crib and rocking chair filled it. My eyes fell on the still rocking chair just as a curdling scream slice through the house from the entryway.

I didn't want to follow the shriek. My mind clamored to pull me anywhere else, but my body was possessed. A slight turn to the hallway was all it took.

"Are you the woman he's leaving me for?" Her voice rang sharply with accusation. Deep purple bruises peeked from the scarf tied artfully around her neck. "Are you why he didn't want our baby?"

Finally, my body and mind met, agreeing that panic and escape were my best options. Unfortunately, panic won out. The blood drained from my head, pooling painfully in my legs. I stumbled back towards the stairs, but she was advancing on me.

"We were happy until you ruined everything," she bellowed. Her pale skin stretched thinly across the delicate bones of her face. For a moment, sadness ebbed into my chest for her.

She held her gaze on me, but the unwavering sense of someone else suddenly distracted me. To my left, my eyes fell on a man smartly dressed. His face was drawn with guilt and shame as he calmly climbed over the railing overlooking the entryway. He released his grip with the slightest intake of breath, plummeting to the ground with a sickly thud.

Instinct pulled me to the railing, reaching in vain to grasp him, but he was gone. My eyes fell to the floor below, but it was empty.

It Had to Be You swirled through the house again.

"You did this. We were happy." The woman edged towards me again. "You ruined everything."

"I... I..." But words couldn't form. My feet dragged me closer to the stairs, but my eyes wouldn't drop from her. As she moved closer and closer, my mind screamed not to lose sight of her.

My bare feet discovered the edge of the top step, but the woman was relentlessly approaching. I reached for something, anything, to stabilize my stumble. As quickly as a blink, my stumble tipped into a fall. I dug at the smooth railing, unable to grasp it. Still unwilling to waver from the woman, my eyes were no help. Instead, I saw a small, nefarious smile spread across the still-advancing woman.

Time slowly moved as I tipped too far on my heel. My heart pounded in my ears as a slight breeze toyed with a few errant hairs while I started my plummet. Before my ears filled with the sickly crunch of my body plunging down the stairs, I heard the woman humming. My eyes clung to her as she watched my decent pleasantly humming It Had to Be You. The last thing I could comprehend before the darkness of death took hold was a small wave as she murmured, "welcome home, darling."