Gracie Bennet and her mother sat wordlessly at the dinner table. The bare light bulb illuminating an empty room. All their meager belongings had been packed away in boxes days ago.

"I know you're worried about the move" sighed Mrs. Bennet. "But think about what it'll mean for us. We'll finally have a home of our own. And from what I hear, it's a big one."

Gracie didn't look up from her soup.

"How are we even related to this guy?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. But I think he was a relative on my mother's side. Either way, you remember what they said at the reading."

Gracie sure did.

She and her mother sat before a great expensive desk as an important looking man read aloud the lost will.

"As executor of the estate, the Professor wanted all his capitol to go to his cousin. But since he is no longer with us, the house and assets go directly to you."

While her mother and the executor gabbed on about what a blessing it was, Gracie examined the old document. Her glasses sliding down her nose as she read.

"Who's Edward?" she spoke up.

The room went silent.

"Say's here the capitol of the estate was going to go to some guy named Edward Brightman. You didn't mention our great uncle had a son."

While the executor fumbled with the papers, Gracie smiled inwardly.
And to think people were always taunting her for being so bookish. For all she knew, Grace could have just saved her poor mother from making a ghastly mistake.

"You have a very observant daughter" the executor remarked. "You see, the professor was very old when he wrote his will. His mind was not what it used to be."

The next morning, the tiny Bennet family made their way to their new home. Clutching her backpack, Gracie stared out the window.
The garish suburban houses made her eyes ache. She could only imagine the high school that went along with such a bland community. Gracie prayed they would at least have a decent library.

Completely bored, she studied her own ghostly reflection in the car window. Not bad. Everyone told her she'd look so pretty if she got contacts and let her hair grow. But Gracie didn't care. Her tomboyish image suited her just fine.

"Here we are."

Hauling herself out of the boredom induced trance, Gracie gazed up at her new house.

"Mom, I think your dearly departed uncle just totally redeemed himself!"

The great house was nothing like the cookie cutter domiciles she had seen driving in. It was a majestic affair that was both haunting and beautiful.

"Would you look how old it is!" gaped Mrs. Bennet. "I cant believe it. Probably needs some repairs, but I'm sure we'll think of something. Oh and what a garden!"

Gracie and her mother milled about the immaculate topiaries and flower beds. Each one sculpted to perfection.

"Looks like the care taker had quite an artistic eye."

It took half the day, but the Bennet's finally got all their boxes inside. Every time they crossed the threshold, the cavernous great hall welcomed them into its cool shadows. As Gracie hauled in the last of their possessions, her mother was busy dusting off a collection of strange machines occupying part of the hall.

"Uncle Brightman made those?" she asked.

"That's what the executor of the estate said" answered her mother. "They said we could have them removed, but I don't think we should. I kinda like them."

Gracie couldn't help but smile. Her mother always had such great taste.

"Okay. I'm gonna go find a room, Mom."

Dufflebag in hand, Gracie made the long trek up the mansion's staircase. All the while she couldn't take her mind her new home's curious architecture. Everything seemed to be on an angle. As if the house itself were slowly moving under her feet.

Finally she arrived at the top floor. A long bare room with only a tiny fireplace sprawled out before her.

"Not too bad" she mused. "Once we patch that hole in the roof, this room might actually be livable."

snip... snip snip...

The sudden sound shattered the all consuming silence. Clutching her chest, Gracie stood stock still. She strained every nerve as she listened for the sound. But quietude had returned to the lonely house.

"My goodness. Looks like someone's been busy!"

Gracie joined her mother at the dinner table covered in dust. Her coffee colored hair festooned with cobwebs.

"Hey mom, when you were unpacking did you hear anything weird?"

"Like what?" asked Mrs. Bennet.

"I don't know. It kinda sounded metallic."

Gracie's mother mulled over her daughter's account for several minutes.

"It might be the wiring. I'll call an electrician this weekend."