The vanity is, perhaps, the most expensive fixture remaining in the house. Made of a high quality wood, it is well crafted and seems to have stood the test of time. Its mirror gives off an eerie glare from the several lights adorning it, each miraculously glowing despite the lack of a power source. A lone perfume bottle sits upright on the surface, but its contents have likely long since evaporated. The sole drawer is locked shut, though with no discernible entrance for a key, you quickly surmise it might have something to do with the seven typewriter keys connected at the bottom.
You pick up the ornate bottle of perfume and, as you suspected, its contents have long since evaporated. For a brief moment though, notes of hyacinth and jasmine hit you, and you hear a voice whisper behind you.
“I do wish you’d respect my belongings.”
You turn to find the foggy figure of none other than Vera McDermott, the lights of her vanity shining through and illuminating her.
“Concerning what, exactly? Your boorish trespass into my home, or perhaps your brazen invasion of my privacy?”
“Must I entertain you with the story of my murder? Very well, if it will expedite your egress from this house. I had set off for town to pick up an expensive furnishing for the parlor room, a rather exquisite side table. I had brought the lodger with me to do the heavy lifting, so of course for safety’s sake I had grabbed my sister-in-law, Jane, and made her accompany me. My son tagged along as well at my insistence. The car broke down not too far from here, and just as a storm had begun to roll in. We were given a lift back home by a passerby, that salesman fellow. He was a bit talkative, but pleasant nonetheless, and I invited him in with the hope that the storm would pass shortly and he could return us to our vehicle. Once inside, well… there were refreshments made. That awful neighbor was there, who knows why, and that’s where things get rather blurry for me. I’d rather not discuss this anymore right now.”
“Charles? Away on business, sadly. A different time zone, actually, three hours behind. Oh how I wish he’d have been here! It was awful to see him when he returned a few days later, to find his wife and family in such a horrendous state. Charles was a special man, though, and he figured out a way to speak with Elsie… ah, our daughter. He wouldn’t speak with me, however… I feel as though he mistakenly thought I might have had something to do with it, that I was but a suspect amongst the other spirits here. I had to watch in horror as my own husband went mad in this house trying to discover what happened! He was obsessed with finding the murderer, it consumed him when I needed him the most. When he died, all I wanted was for him to join us here but… he simply ceased to be.”
“Elsie? No! How would I? Why would I?! I admit I never felt the connection to Elsie that I did with my own son, but she was still a daughter, our daughter! How dare you suggest I had something to do with this dreadful assault on our family!”
