People from all over the world flocked to the Reynard Hotel for one reason—ghosts. They charged their cameras, packed their families in minivans, and set off for a sleepy coastal town in Connecticut, exchanging the thrill of roller coasters and the excitement of meeting a beloved movie character for the chance to encounter the things that go bump in the night. People sacrificed the luxuries of fine hotels and crammed into small guest rooms with the hopes of catching a glimpse of the Hyde brothers.

The twin boys were rumored to haunt the grounds of the historic Reynard. Disembodied laughter, pounding footsteps, and glowing orbs of blue and purple had all been caught on video and attributed to the brothers. On occasion, keys and sunglasses would inexplicably fly across a room, and tapping would sound from inside the walls as the two souls cursed to live out eternity in the hotel made their presence known to the living.

Hazel Fox lifted a gnarled hand to the ruby pendant around her neck as she made her way through the empty narrow hallway. The light bulbs flickered, casting shadows over the golden outline of peonies etched into the peacock-blue wallpaper. With each step she took toward the staircase, the flowers appeared to sway with an unfelt breeze. Most would be unnerved by the groaning wooden floors and the squeaking of rusted hinges, but she found comfort in the settling of the colonial building. Especially on a night like this.

Winter Spirits was one of her favorite days of the year. For a single night, the brothers were free from the confines of the hotel's property. Legend had it they slaughtered animals and snatched babies from their cribs, but Hazel knew the truth. The twins wreaked havoc the way young men tend to do, but never with malice. So, when Hazel had taken ownership of the Reynard, she had dismantled the terrifying tales and turned the night into a celebration.

"Aunt Hazel! Wait!"

Hazel turned to find a blond, gangly preteen running toward her, buttoning her gray wool coat and skidding to a stop in her patent leather shoes.

"Someone looks ready for a festival." Hazel looked down at her favorite niece, and the brightness in the child's eyes filled her with pride. She hadn't had children of her own, so Gemma was the closest thing to a daughter she'd ever have.

"Yeah, but I was wondering if I could practice my ghost tour on you on the way out. You said I could lead them by myself next summer, remember?" The girl was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Of course. Show me what you've got," Hazel said, then stopped short, looking around the empty hallway. "Wait. Where's your cousin?"

Gemma didn't even bother to hide her eye roll. "Raven already went outside. She said she couldn't stand spending another minute in this creepy hotel, and the festival was the only reason she came." Hazel covered her mouth with her palm to hide her grin; Gemma's impression of her other niece was impeccable.

Where Gemma was free-spirited, Raven thrived on schedules and boundaries. One girl enjoyed her time at the Reynard, while the other saw the days there as nothing more than an obligation to spend time with her eccentric great-aunt. Gemma was open to all possibilities, but Raven was firmly grounded in tangibles. Which is why she would never be the one to cherish the Reynard as Gemma did.

"All right then, her loss." Hazel held out her hand, and Gemma wrapped her fingers around it. "I'm ready for the best ghost tour this hotel has ever seen."

"As the Fox family legend goes, it was the coldest night of 1886, and twin baby boys were left on the steps of the hotel. When they were found by Amity Fox, the hotel's first owner, they were blue, lifeless, dead. Their spirits are here roaming the halls of this hotel. Many see them in the form of the young men they never grew up to be."

"It's true. This is the only home Archer and Soren have ever known."

Gemma held her hands in front of her, brushing the air with her palms like she could feel their presence. She took big steps, lifting her knees to her chest and dropping her voice to a haunting whisper. "If you listen closely, you might hear them laughing in a hallway or knocking on the walls from the other side."

Hazel's big jeweled earrings dangled next to her cheeks, and her go-to fuchsia lipstick turned her thin lips into a wicked grin. She mimicked her niece's creepy stride. "The Hyde brothers never disappoint."

"They enjoy playing in the dark, and that's why every night at ten o'clock we turn out the lights and guide the ghost tour with nothing more than the light of lanterns."

Hazel couldn't fight her smile. While other girls Gemma's age were absorbed in social media accounts, celebrity crushes, and favorite TV shows, all of that fell off her niece's radar when she set foot in the Reynard. She spent every waking moment of her annual summer visits searching for the ghostly boys. Every year she begged her parents to book rooms at the hotel for Winter Spirits, and they compromised by bringing her every other January. Gemma's love for the Reynard was unquestionable.

"And where's the boys' favorite place to hide, Gem?"

Gemma didn't even have to think twice. "The bell tower. No one can go up there because the entrance is closed off. They like it there, because they're safe from curious eyes. But on this very night, they come out to play with all of Spelling."

Hazel squeezed Gemma's shoulder, proud that the girl clung to her every word. They would sit for hours in Hazel's suite, talking about the women in their family who had owned the hotel before her, and she gave her niece the necessary tidbits about the twins who were portrayed in a painting over Hazel's fireplace. Gemma studied the artwork and absorbed every story, eager to share the tales with those who wanted to hear them.

They descended the last flight of stairs and entered the lobby. Gemma skipped over the checkered tile and sat in the velvet wingback chair in the sitting room. She crossed her ankles and clasped her hands in her lap, staring at the fire crackling in the stone-carved fireplace.

Hazel rounded the antique mahogany counter, running her fingers over the hand-carved filigree along the edge. Her heart swelled at the sight of the girl so comfortably settled at the Reynard. It was quite the feat to gain Hazel's adoration; only two people had accomplished it before Gemma. Like them, her niece saw beyond the bright muumuus and collection of silver rings that adorned each of her fingers. She was one of the few who enjoyed Hazel's questionable humor and joined in with her boisterous laughter. Her niece loved her as she was, and Hazel adored her in return.

With the money from the register secured in the safe, Hazel stood and met the familiar gaze of a young man. A grin spread over her face; she would never grow tired of those unusual sparkling eyes, or how a dimple indented his right cheek when he smiled.

"Sun's just set. It's time for some fun, darling," he said, propping an elbow on the countertop.

His smooth voice, laced with a hint of mischief, echoed through the empty lobby and grabbed Gemma's attention. From the fit of his new slacks to the black button-down shirt, her wide-eyed gaze soaked in every detail. Hazel recognized the enthralled expression on her niece's face; it was the same one she herself had worn the first time she'd seen him.

"Is that—"

"It is," Hazel said to him.

"She's growing up."

"As are you, my friend." Hazel stepped out from behind the desk and held her hand out to her niece. "Come along, Gemma. It's time to celebrate with the spirits."

"Yes, the spirits," the boy repeated with a sly grin.

Gemma wrapped her fingers around her aunt's and tilted her head to the side, studying the boy through narrowed eyes. When they stepped out into the frosty winter evening, she asked, "Have you seen the Hyde brothers?"

He exchanged a glance with Hazel. A smile that held four lifetimes' worth of secrets pulled at his lips. "I guess you could say that."

"Do you think they're here now?"

Hazel didn't miss the calculated undertone of the question. If Gemma was anything, she was perceptive.

"I do. And I think it's quite probable that you'll run into at least one of them before the night is through," he said with a wink.

"Are you—"

"Let the young man be on his way, Gemma. There's so much to discover, and some only have this one night. And we have a tradition that awaits us."

Gemma followed her aunt down the hotel's front steps, eager to dance and play carnival games in the town square. "I hope you have fun tonight," she said, looking back at the boy, but her words fizzled when she found no one there.

"Where'd he go?"

Hazel put her arm around her niece's slender shoulders and led her toward the town square. "I'm sure you'll see him again."

The wistful look on the girl's face warmed Hazel's heart, and right then she knew—if anyone would be able to do what she herself couldn't, it would be Gemma Fox.