Keisha couldn’t believe her wonderful fortune. She looked up at the beautiful gingerbread trim that adorned her newly purchased house’s wraparound porch and high gables. It was a bit of a fixer-upper, full of trash from past residents, but it was solid and all hers.

As Keisha returned to check on the movers, she observed her neighbors peering over the short hedge that surrounded her property.

“Good morning!” says the speaker. Keisha smiled as she waved to the young couple, but her intention to befriend the neighbors was dashed when the couple hurriedly stepped into their car and drove away without looking back.

“I guess the locals aren’t very friendly,” Keisha lamented.

When Keisha and her children entered the neighborhood coffee shop, suspicious glances and whispers grew. It was starting to bother Keisha. She peered around at the individuals at the tables, but everyone turned away as she tried to meet their eyes.

Instead, Keisha examined the historical photographs of local sites that adorned the walls. When she looked across at the table where Carter and Ava were waiting, they made her laugh with their goofy looks.

“Hi there!” The barista gave Keisha a friendly greeting. “You must be the newcomers to town.” I’m Sam. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“So there are some friendly people in this town.” As she purchased funnel cakes for herself and the kids, Keisha returned the man’s grin. “I was beginning to believe that everyone here despised newcomers or something.”

“It’s nothing like that at all.” Sam’s expression became solemn, and he looked around before leaning over the counter. “You don’t live in that old, blue Victorian house on Park, do you?”

“Yeah,” Keisha said. “What do you think about it?”

“That house is haunted,” Sam said quietly.

“Haunted?” Keisha nearly laughed, but the barista simply nodded.

“This isn’t just any old haunted house. The previous owner, an old man named Jefferson, was a psychic medium. He used to hold these seances, and it is reported that he established a spiritual nexus in that residence. Nobody has been allowed to live in that house since he died,” Sam went on.

“Seriously?” she said, stunned.

“It has a curse on it.” Jefferson’s granddaughter had to sell the property due to debts, and anybody who has lived there since has reported flashing lights, moving objects, and weird voices calling to them. Some even went insane.”

“Do people think I’m going insane next?” Keisha inquired.

“No,” answered an old woman with a jagged scar on her chin. “We know you were cursed the moment you entered that house. Get out now. We don’t want you to bring evil into our establishment.”

“Mom, put a stop to it.” The barista frowned at the woman.

“Quiet, you!” The woman cast a critical eye on the barista. “Please stop talking to her. It’s best to get her out as soon as possible.”

“You can’t deny me service because of some old ghost story,” Keisha said angrily.

“Go!” The lady indicated with her fingers. “Get out of my shop and don’t come back.”

Keisha was unconcerned about curses, ghosts, or other supernatural nonsense. But around midnight, she was startled awake by the sound of heavy footfall in the hall. She exited her room, grabbed the baseball bat next to her bed, and saw the flickering lights in the corridor, which produced strange shadows on the floor. The hall was deserted. When a voice reverberated, she had chills down her spine.

She whirled around with her baseball bat to face the darkness in her bedroom. Nobody was present. However, the sound of activity downstairs had her hurrying downstairs to check on her children, who shared a room on the first floor.

“Did you hear those sounds, Mom?” Carter sobbed.

“I told you, Carter, that it’s just because the house is old, right, Mom?” Ava said, but her eyes were filled with apprehension. They all jumped and screamed when the bedroom door banged against the wall. Keisha bolted from the children’s room.

Instead of an intruder, she noticed smoke snaking around her feet as it billowed through the floor. As the air became colder, a murmured hymn in an unknown tongue resonated. Footsteps arrived abruptly from the other end of the hall. The lights began to flicker, and the single mother couldn’t stand it any longer.

She snatched the kids and dragged them outside, embracing them firmly on the porch while she dialed 911. They were less than helpful, however, because there were no traces of a break-in.

“I’m well aware that this house has a reputation for being haunted, but the police will not entertain any more false alarm calls to this address,” the officer informed her after some time. “You could be fined or arrested for wasting a cop’s time.”

When the officers departed, her kids were afraid, but when they inquired whether the house was haunted, Keisha firmly stated, “Ghosts aren’t real.”

Keisha began packing the next day. Although ghosts were not real, her children were not secure in that house. After a while, she noticed some of her children’s clothes were in the basement laundry machine and dashed down.

In a corner, a black leather glove rested. It was excessively large, implying that someone—not a ghost—had been in her home. Keisha began inspecting the entire basement with her phone’s flashlight. Although there was nothing clearly wrong, her instincts were on high alert.

Her gaze was drawn to the floor, where she noticed an interesting dirt pattern running to the wood panel on the wall. It was curled as if someone had messed up the floor by opening a door. Her eyes widened as she grasped the wood paneling’s edges.

Her fingertips were discovered, and the wood paneling shifted to expose a secret entrance. Keisha had seen enough horror movies to know not to go in, and her love of detective fiction taught her the truth: her house wasn’t haunted. Someone wanted her to believe that.

Keisha neglected to pack and headed straight to the library. After speaking with the librarian, she looked through old newspaper records and learned that the Barlow family had owned the house until Anna’s daughter sold it.

The librarian stated that Anna died following the sale, which sparked the curse stories. Mr. Barlow was the family medium, and various pieces about him appeared in the newspapers.

“A local psychic medium dies in his sleep,” read Keisha aloud. “Instead of leaving his daughter an inheritance, he left her a riddle leading to a hidden treasure.”

As Keisha read, the narrative became even more odd. According to the reporter, after his mother died, Mr. Barlow acquired a large fortune, retired early, and spent the remainder of his life working as a medium. Anna refused to reveal anything about the puzzle.

“Guess she never found that treasure,” Keisha grumbled as she noticed a photograph of Mr. Barlow. He wasn’t alone. There were two girls with him, but something else pricked Keisha’s memory.

Keisha went back to her house and looked around as an idea emerged. She then proceeded to the coffee shop, beaming brightly as she greeted Sam.

“You look chipper,” he said.

“I’ve had a great day!” “I found a treasure in that old house,” she leaned across the counter, whispering. It will put me up for life!”

“Really?” Sam looked at her with wide eyes. “Wow, many congratulations.”

Keisha sat in the dark that evening. Waiting. Around her, the night was as chilly as a tomb. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, a faint thud of boots on dirt reverberated in the distance. Someone was making their way down the underground tunnel.

The secret door hidden behind the wood paneling creaked open. A bright beam crept down the wall and floor, moving toward Keisha. The light turned off just as it was about to reveal her, leaving the intruder and her in the peaceful darkness.

“Now!” shouted Keisha, shattering the stillness.

As the police officers arrived at her signal, bright spotlights illuminated the basement from every angle. The trespasser yelled in astonishment as the officers raised their arms and warned him not to move.

“I knew it!” says the author. Keisha gloated as she pointed at the barista. “It’s amazing that you never removed the old photos and documents after all the times you must’ve gone through this house looking for treasure.”

Keisha seized the documents and a photograph, claiming it was enough proof to throw Sam in jail.

“I did nothing wrong. My family has the same claim to this house and the treasure as Aunt Anna, and my spoilt cousin, Julia, had no right to sell it! Those individuals got by on Grandpa Johnson’s coattails, but my mother had to work hard for all she had.”

“I’m afraid these documents suggest something else, Sam.” “According to these letters, your mother was envious of her stepsister,” Keisha said, waving the papers in her hands.

Sam chuckled bitterly. “Johnson always preferred his daughter to his stepdaughter, my mother.” Because of this, Anna always assumed she was superior to Mom. Anna and Julia deserved what they received.”

“I think that’s all we need, ma’am,” the officer said, nodding. “Your trick worked, and I now want you to show me the special effects you mentioned.”

“Trick?” Sam battled while being restrained.

“These are blank,” she explained. “However, I needed you to believe I found something to entice you to come here and talk.” It’s now time to expose your grandfather’s psychic powers.”

Keisha showed off the traps, cables, unique lights, and smoke gadgets that had produced the eerie effects over the years and that the psychic had used for his readings as she walked around the entire house.

Even the officers were taken aback.

“So much for the famous medium’s mystical powers,” mocked one cop. He directed Sam toward the stairwell. “Now we just need to pick up your mother.”

“Wait!” Sam pushed his heels in and locked his gaze on Keisha. “How did you know it was me?” says the narrator.

She displayed the photo she had taken in the library on her phone. “I spotted the identical photo hanging in your coffee shop when I initially arrived. Your mother may not have the scar in this photo, but she still appears the same.”

The officers apprehended Sam and then his mother. But Keisha was unconcerned. “This place is going to be awesome for hosting Halloween parties,” she said as she clicked a button to let some smoke out.