Free Ghostlight by Sonia Gensler Page A

rush of stale-smelling air.
    The door creaked as it swung wide to reveal a hallway and staircase. On either side, a double door opened to a large room. Above us dangled a dusty old light fixture with fake candles. By the looks of the furniture left behind, the room at our right had been a dining room. The room at our left had a large fireplace, so it must have been a parlor.
    That meant it was the parlor window Julian had pointed out in his photo—the one that clearly showed a light shining in it. A light in a house that hadn’t been occupied for years.
    “It smells like old people in here,” said Lily. “And death.”
    “Lily, you have no idea what death smells like.” Julian shook his head as he unzipped his backpack.
    “I’m pretty sure it smells like this,” she muttered.
    The place did have a strong smell—mildew, old newspapers, and rusty pipes came to mind. Definitely a whiff of mouse droppings, but even Grandma found mice in her house sometimes, so that didn’t bother me. She always said you couldn’t blame the creatures for trying to find shelter, and if they were faster than Weasley, more power to them.
    “Does it look the same to you, Avery?”
    I jumped a little at Julian’s voice. “I was younger than Lily back then, and I barely remember anything except Grandma walloping my backside.” I turned to find him checking his camera. “So what’s the plan? Are you taking photos today?”
    Julian strapped the camera around his neck and set the backpack by the door. “I thought I might start filming.”
    “Filming what? We haven’t even started the script.”
    And I’d really been looking forward to writing that script because it would finally get us to
my
specialty.
    He stared past me, his brow wrinkling. “I want to improvise as much as possible. The film will look more natural that way. Today I’ll just film you and Lily exploring the house.”
    “I thought that camera was for taking pictures.”
    “Did you think I’d be rolling in a full-size camera on a dolly or something? This camera also shoots HD video. And it’s all we’ve got.”
    I held up my hands. “Fine.”
    He attached a long, foam-covered object to the top of the camera. “On a real set you have a boom operator who holds this big fuzzy microphone on a long stick. His job is to get close enough to pick up the sound while still keeping the boom out of the frame.” He nodded at the foam microphone. “This is the best I can do with what we have.”
    “Your camera has a horn!” said Lily, grinning.
    “Anyway…” Julian gave her a sidelong glance. “Let’s go back outside so I can film you two unlocking the door. We might use it later, or we might not, but best to get it done now. Just remember to act like you’re doing it for the first time.”
    After we took care of that, Julian told me to lead the way through the dining room. The windows had those old-fashioned paper shades rolled halfway down. Both were torn and crooked, and the windowsills were full of fly corpses. I turned back to the large table, running my hand across its surface to trace the scars and burns. A battered hutch stood against the wall, but it held no plates or glassware.
    The mildew and mouse smells were stronger in the kitchen, and some of the cabinet doors hung off their hinges. There was a fridge, but it looked about a hundred years old. I bet Joshua Hilliard spent as little time as possible in the kitchen after his wife died. Probably ate out of cans or made cold-cut sandwiches. The room seemed lonely, as if it didn’t know what to do with itself.
    “Ewww.” Lily pointed at the floor. “There’s a dried-up mouse over here. Get a shot of this, Jules.”
    I glanced at Julian. “What does a dead mouse have to do with anything?”
    “No, she’s right,” he said. “Look how it’s mummified.”
    He took about twenty close-ups of the mummy mouse. When he turned back around, I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shrugged.
    After that we