Cora held out hope for an entire week before she finally accepted the cold hard truth that Mrs. Fielding wasn't coming back. To make matters worse, their former cook had taken her aunts' horses and carriage to Exeter. Cora doubted that the woman ever made it to Exeter. The greedy creature probably sold everything her aunts owned at the earliest opportunity.

Cora was now stuck on her aunts' property in the most remote part of the moorlands with no means of transportation. The nearest town was still days away if she were to traverse there by foot. Cora had been surviving on stale bread and raw fruits and vegetables from the garden, but already she recognized that her current situation wasn't sustainable. She would need to embark on a journey of her own to Haytor Vale to seek assistance—for the sake of her aunts and for her own survival. Cora would have left ages ago if not for the fact that she had no sense of direction, no shelter, and not nearly enough dry provisions to last her for the duration of such a lengthy trip.

Still, something had to be done. Cora wasn't about to sit around and twiddle her thumbs until she perished. Thank goodness for Luna and Noctis. The two furballs decided to emerge from their self-imposed exile right after Mrs. Fielding left. If not for their company, Cora suspected that she likely would have gone a little batty on her own.

Perhaps the only downside, though, to having Luna and Noctis back around was the fact that they seemed noticeably altered both in temperament and form. Luna's silky white fur had grown coarse, almost frizzy, and gray. She had also developed the appetite of a small horse, practically eating Cora out of house and home at every meal—with the extra rolls and poundage to show for it. Meanwhile, Noctis' stunning black fur had faded into an ashy white overnight with patches of baldness here and there. The vain little thing was constantly in a snit over his diminished appearance. His demeanor had grown foul and persnickety, much like Aunt Mathilde whenever she was in one of her moods.

They also refused to sleep at night, which, in turn, prevented Cora from sleeping at night. The two felines yowled and meowed at the top of their lungs until Cora rose in anger to chase them out of her bedroom. They would then start mewling even louder while scratching and scraping relentlessly at her door with their claws. The only way to quiet them down was to let them push her legs with their heads towards the piano in the downstairs parlor. They would hiss and spit until Cora began to play Moonlight Sonata for what felt like the hundredth time since their return.

A few nights later, Cora wasn't surprised to find herself seated once again at the piano with Luna and Noctis by her side. She was wearing her white nightgown. The clock struck midnight as she began to play. She sighed irritably as the familiar melody filled the parlor once more.

This time, however, the song sounded a bit strange. Cora was playing all the right notes, but there was almost a broken down, despondent quality to them. The second Cora's fingers hit the final note, the entire room began to spin and swirl as though they had been swallowed into the eye of a hurricane. Cora screamed bloody murder and reached for Luna and Noctis in terror. The idiot cats didn't comply. Instead, they leapt away from her into the dizzying chaos.

When the room finally stopped turning, Cora nearly fell off of the piano bench. She was breathing heavily, and her pulse was trembling like a leaf. The red door in the corner of the room slowly creaked open. A pale silvery hand appeared from the side of the doorframe. Its fingers curled and unfurled in a beckoning motion.

"Ora intres, ora intres..." a soft voice whispered.

Luna and Noctis scuttled towards the broom closet and disappeared inside.

"Oh no! Come back here, you two!" Cora cried out.

Foolishly, without giving it another thought, she stood from the piano and chased after them. As Cora neared the doorway, the ghostly hand reached out to grab her arm, pulling the girl into the darkness with a firm tug. She tried to squirm away, but it was too late.

The door closed behind them with an almost inaudible 'click.'