The girl wasn't going to give up so easily. Sam had promised not to tell on her, and if the butler wanted to let Donatella know of her absence, he would have already alerted the woman. There was very little risk – what could be a worse punishment than being locked up like she already was? – and the possibility of a large reward: going home.

Because it had almost worked once, Josie had to try running away again.

After putting the worn book on a side table, she tiptoed to the window and slowly opened it. Taking even more measured steps than before to escape, she made it to the ground without falling. Only when her feet touched the cold, hard ground did the girl realize she'd forgotten to put her shoes back on.

With a sigh, Josie looked up at the second story window and shook her head. There was no going back now; she'd have to go just in her stocking feet.

Automatically turning in the direction Sam had led her, Josie ran a few steps before stopping. Something deep inside her told her to go the other way. As if on cue, a raven flew out of the adjacent forest and began circling overhead.

Ca-caw. Ca-caw. It cried out like a guard dog warning its master of an intrusion.

No longer thinking, but rather reacting to the threat of discovery, Josie began to retreat. Stumbling in her haste, she fell backwards and landed on her bottom. The bird stopped as well, perching on an unlit gas lantern on the manor's wall. Tilting its head, the raven gazed down at Josie as if waiting for her next move.

Conscious of every wasted moment, the girl shivered as she jumped to her feet and ran toward the conservatory. Slowing only when she reached the clear glass wall, Josie crouched behind a row of sleek, white flowers.

She knew calla lilies well; the cone-shaped flowers were on many paintings and mosaics in the churches Josie visited with Mother. The girl frowned. Although she strongly disliked attending Holy Eucharist – and often Morning Prayer, as well as Evening Prayer – she greatly missed Mother's company.

Movement inside the winter garden stopped Josie's reminiscing and made her hunch down even further. Slowly peeking over the lilies, she saw Donatella's familiar sleek figure inside.

The woman wore gloves that ran up to her elbows and a wide brimmed hat. Walking on the narrow path between the various plants, she occasionally stopped to nip off a wilted bud or prune a dead twig.

Ca-caw. The raven broke its momentary silence, pushing off from the perch with its wiry black legs. Swooping overhead, it disappeared into the conservatory through the open hatch.

Josie bit her lip. She could still double-back the other way, but that was now the long way round the manor. Taking a deep breath, she waited for Donatella to turn her back before making a dash around the conservatory.

Both her legs and back ached as she scurried in a crouching position. Leaving the transparent structure behind, Josie leaned against the manor's brick wall to catch her breath.

She'd made it. From this vantage point, she expected to see the stone fence with its iron bars at the front of the property. Looking around, however, Josie was faced with nothing, but the dead forest.

Balling her hands into fists at her sides in frustration, Josie tried to remain calm. It didn't help. The girl knew she should have just gone in the original direction. That silly bird made her question her intentions and led her on the wrong path. And no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't turn around. She'd risked too much already to be discovered now.

If the only way to go was through the forest, then that was exactly what she had to do. Taking one more deep breath to boost her courage, Josie stepped away from the wall and ran toward an abandoned path between the trees.

The ever-present fog was even thicker here, trapped between the web of worn trunks and creeping branches. A wet layer of brown and yellow leaves also covered the ground like a slick, organic carpet, and the girl had to carefully watch each and every step, lest she slip.

The smell of decay filled the air. The hard, dirt path got narrower and the trees got closer the further Josie went. Her heart beat increasingly faster, and she moved her head from side to side, constantly scanning her surroundings. Occasionally a twig snapped or an owl hooted, making Josie hasten her steps.

The further she got, the more she doubted the wisdom of entering the forest. She had no idea where she was heading. There was no indication of anything else around, but more trees.

She was also cold and her feet hurt. It was decided. If there was nothing of value beyond the next bend, then she'd turn around.

Resolved to defeat, Josie's eyes widened when – rounding a particularly large oak – the forest suddenly cleared. But instead of empty farmland, another ornate, iron-gate greeted her. The objects protruding from the ground were even more shocking.

Dozens of gray silhouettes – some with rounded tops, others cross-shaped – stood in organized rows. An occasional larger monument – a tall obelisk or a winged figure – dotted the landscape, while square structures with pitched roofs lined the perimeter.

Josie drew in a quick breath. She had found the manor's private graveyard.

Going a bit faint at the thought, she leaned against a tree for support. She did not like these types of places; they were reserved for the dead and had no use for the living. The more she pondered the situation, the sicker Josie felt. Her head began to spin and her stomach convulsed.

Wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead, something in the distance caught Josie's eye. At first she thought it was just the fog, blowing across the graves and weaving through the tombstones. The more she stared ahead, however, the clearer the two, hooded figures became.

Cloaked in white, they blended almost seamlessly into their surroundings. Moving in a straight line – and at an impossibly constant speed – they headed for one of the crypts in the rear.

Josie knew she should turn around. She knew she should leave. And she also knew that she couldn't.

Waiting until the mysterious figures had their backs to her, Josie stepped away from the large oak and slipped through the cemetery's slightly ajar gate. With her breath ragged from anticipation, the girl stayed just far enough back to keep her presence hidden, occasionally crouching behind stone funerary monuments for cover.

Luckily, she didn't have far to go. The figures stopped in front of a square building no larger than Josie's bedroom inside the manor. A group of small chickadees perched on the marble roof scattered into the air at their arrival. After a moment's pause, the figures entered the crypt through an entryway secured by an iron gate.

Although Josie couldn't follow them inside without being seen, she snuck around to a side window also secured by iron bars. With a clear view of the interior, she watched as the figures made their way toward the back of the structure and stopped at a wall of marble plaques.

Dozens of these markers dotted the wall in orderly rows, all of them with the names of the deceased and the years of their life. There was, however, one blank space and that was where the figures stood.

A chill ran through Josie as one of the figures pushed back its hood with its pale, thin fingers. Like its cloak, its hair was also pure white, hanging straight down its back. Slowly moving its hand over the unclaimed tomb, it recited an unintelligible incantation, while its companion remained silent.

Josie gasped as underneath the figure's palm, etched lettering began to appear. The girl strained her neck to make out the name, but the angle and distance prevented her from getting a good look. Blinking heavily to clear her vision, Josie looked up one more time.

She was sitting in the large, comfy chair by a softly crackling fire with the book of Greek mythology resting open on her lap.

Was it just a dream? Did her imagination take her back outside, through the forest, and into the cemetery? Were those figures figments of her subconscious? But how could a child's restless mind create such an elaborate illusion?

She looked over her shoulder at the window, but it was still closed. Pulling her legs out from under her to check just in case, Josie gasped. Her previously pristine white stockings were now full of holes and covered in dirt.

A knock at the door made her jump.

"Josie, my dear. Are you up?" Donatella's voice came loud and clear. "I had a bath prepared for you."

The girl quickly stood and removed her stockings. Tucking them under the chair's cushion, she ran to the door and pushed down on the handle. It opened without hesitation. Donatella must have already unlocked it.

"There you are." Her great aunt smiled, as Josie stuck her head through the gap. "Come along. You have just enough time to take a nice hot bath. I want you looking and feeling your best at dinner. We have some important visitors for you to meet."

Author's Note: You've now gotten a fairly good introduction to Josie and some of the secrets of the manor. What do you think so far? What is going on here? Do you have any theories? What type of visitors do you expect at Donatella's special dinner? Who were those figures in the cemetery? And whose name were they were etching onto that empty tomb? Thanks for reading and stay tuned for more next week!