Nine chapters and we're finally getting to the meat! I think Longest Night spoiled me in that I learned how to stretch events and now I'm out of control.

Anyway—

Thanks for your patience! I got married, and then moved into our new apartment! The story wasn't forgotten, just put on hold.

I probably won't make my Halloween deadline, but whatever.

The pink room. That was the room Marinette stayed in when she worked late and missed the last train to her apartment.

It worked for her, of course, because it was pink. Pink walls, pink curtains and sheets, and the furniture was white with gold accents. It was dainty and delicate and all things that she aspired to be.

It was the only room the Will allowed her to redecorate, and she found that she didn't want to.

Nathalie was there to greet her in the morning, and to hand over the key. "Are you excited?" She asked.

"For…what?"

"To live in this house. A lot of history here, you know." She smiled.

"And a lot of painful memories," Alya tacked on helpfully, as she set a box down. "This is where one of her best friends died, remember?" The bitterness in her voice was palpable.

"Alya…"

"No, I'm not going to argue. We've already agreed to disagree. I think it's cruel that Mr. Agreste is making you live in this house, even after he's gone."

"Yes, and I think he was being considerate to give me a place to live, when I told him how my apartment hunt was going."

"This again?" Nino moaned, bringing in the last box from the car. "Look, I think that if Mr. Agreste was really being considerate, he would have left it to you with no conditions. But he was very controlling in life, and thus, had to be controlling in death."

"I don't think it's wise to speak ill of the dead," said Nathalie, sharply.

The front door slammed shut.

They stood in silence for a second before Nathalie muttered, "draft."

"What a great time for a breeze," said Nino, with a laugh.

The house is haunted

By the echo of your last goodbye

Yeah, the house is haunted

By the memories that refuse to die

"Anyways," began Marinette. "Most of this stuff goes in my office, and the other will go into my room."

"No furniture?" Asked Nathalie.

"I left most of it at Alya and Nino's apartment. If I'm not allowed to redecorate, what's the point?"

"And you're alright with the furniture in the pink room?"

"It's fabulous," said Marinette with a snort. "Honestly, I'm sure it's better than my IKEA furniture. What is it, hand carved by Italian woodworkers?"

"I believe so, yes," said Nathalie, with no hint of amusement in her voice.

Nino let out a low whistle. "You're allowed to have roommates, right?"

"Getting out of your marriage home is the whole reason I'm leaving the apartment, remember?" She poked his chest. "But you are both welcome to crash here when you want."

"Shall I give you the grand tour?" Asked Nathalie. "I'm sure you know most of the house by now, but…"

"Yes, let's see it."

Nathalie led them through the first floor, starting in the dining room, through the kitchen and walk-in pantry. Into the parlor, her office, and Gabriel's old office. She opened every door on the way, revealing closets, the laundry room, and utility room. But still no basement.

Upstairs, there was the Pink Room, another guest room, Adrien's room, and the Master Suite. The Master Suite would most likely become another guest room, maybe for her parents, because she didn't think she could sleep in the same room Gabriel lived in. There were a pair of bathrooms up there, and all the rooms had walk-in closets. Again, no secret doors or passages.

The third floor, which got much more use since Marinette started working at the manor, was a studio. It had a lighting set up, and a darkroom, as well as a colossal closet with dressing room. This floor also hosted a library and a bar.

"Girl, you have got to take advantage of this bar with clients!" Alya glanced over the very expensive bottles that lined the walls. "I know they would appreciate it!"

"When Emilie was alive," Nathalie began, "She and Gabriel would often have guests and clients up here for parties and what not. That's what it was designed for."

"Perhaps I will, then," Marinette tried to smile.

It felt weird to pretend like this place was her home. After all, she couldn't redecorate, and the Agreste's had family portraits in every room.

It felt like she was just watching it while they were gone.

I can't get away from a vision that brings

Intimate glimpses of intimate things

A voice in my heart like a torch singer sings

I wonder who's kissing you now

"Well, is the manor adequate for you?" Asked Nathalie, while Alya and Nino were taking a closer look at the bottles.

"It's more than adequate," Marinette laughed. "I was just thinking…" If there was ever a time to ask, it was now. "Is there a basement?"

"No," she replied, much too quickly. "Only the storage rooms I have showed you. Why do you ask?"

Now she was in delicate territory. She gnawed on her lip, and asked, boldly, "could you…tell me where you found Adrien and Gabriel that night? If I'm going to be living here…I'm just superstitious is all."

Nathalie's normally stoic and impassive face morphed into a stark frown. "I don't want to talk about that. It was painful and traumatic."

Marinette winced. "I'm sorry. I know it has to be hard. I just…wanted closure."

"Gabriel's Atelier, that's where I found them. So if you don't want to move into that office, I'd understand."

"I'll probably lock that door then. I'd just…feel better about it. Do you need to get anything from your desk?"

"I've moved out already. Most corporate items I have returned to my old office at the downtown studio. You'll be all set to hire my replacement."

Marinette gaped. "Replacement?"

"Did I not tell you? After this week, I'll be stepping down as head assistant. It's too hard to stay after all that happened."

"But—"

"If you need any help, I'll still be around. You have my number."

"I—but what about—?"

"I can train my replacement too. Gabriel left me a nice sum, so I'll be taking some time off for myself."

"You definitely should, I just—" Nathalie had all the answers. Or at least some of them. Maybe with a little time off, she'd be willing to talk. Maybe Ladybug could offer a counseling session.

"Listen, Marinette, you'll do great. Gabriel wouldn't have chosen you for his head apprentice if you weren't ready. The board wouldn't have chosen you for his replacement if you weren't cut out for the job. You don't need me."

"…thank you for the vote of confidence…but I still feel really under qualified."

"I'll talk to HR and see if I can take a look at some of the incoming resumes. I'll see if I can find someone with my qualifications."

Marinette highly doubted she would find someone like Nathalie who wasn't already firmly in a career.

"I'd appreciate that. You feel irreplaceable."

Nathalie smiled, or gave what constituted a smile, and squeezed her shoulder.

The house is haunted

By the echo of your favorite song

The place is cluttered up

With memories that have lived

Too long, much, much too long

That night, Marinette worked late to organize her files. The move into the house had been easy, but the 'finding a home without redecorating' had not.

Every time she tucked something away in a dresser or found an appropriate place for her items, such as adding her movies to the selection in the parlor, she glanced at the huge portraits of the Agreste's around the house.

Why did Gabriel commission all these unhappy, stoic portraits? The one above the stairs was particularly depressing. Young Adrien looked miserable.

Just like he must be now.

"Why weren't you honest with Nathalie earlier?" Tikki asked, breaking the tense silence.

Marinette nearly jumped, having forgotten she was there.

"I…don't know. It just felt weird telling her what Adrien had said."

"You don't suspect her, do you?"

"Should I? I don't know enough about murder investigations to pick up on the subtleties to behavior, you know?"

"She's the one who saw them first, and she helped plan the funeral. She might be the person that requested the empty caskets."

"Then all the more reason to hide the truth from her. She might not be honest about there not being a basement either." Marinette gripped her head and groaned. "Aggghhh why is this so complicated!?"

"Because two people were killed? Or appeared to be killed." Tikki offered. "Regardless of who did it, I think we should be skeptical about who we tell what too. At least until we rule suspects out."

"I think soon, I'll tell Alya and Nino. They were both at the apartment the night of the murder, and likely don't have anything to do with it. But they were still close to Adrien, so it will be a hard topic."

"Good thinking! Alya is a journalist, so she has good investigation skills. And to be honest, they really ought to know."

"Yeah…"

"What's on your mind?"

"I just don't know how to tell them. 'Hey, you know our friend that apparently killed his father before committing suicide? Actually, he didn't. He's actually Chat Noir, and still alive, but he's acting really strange. He hasn't come to talk to me either, and I'm Ladybug, by the way.' What if revealing Adrien's identity blows his cover? We still have no idea what's going on or who's responsible."

Then there was a vibrating sound. Her phone rang in silence.

"I bet that's Alya, checking up on me." She said aloud.

But as she picked it up, it wasn't moving. The call wasn't on her phone.

The ceilings are white

But the shadows are black

A ghost in my heart says

You'll never come back

The sound was coming from the other side of the room, from a dresser drawer. A piece of furniture chosen by Emilie, and never used by Marinette.

Who put a phone in there?

She shuffled across the room, and opened the drawer. Indeed, a cell phone laid in the otherwise empty drawer, and vibrated with a call. The screen lit up, but only had the accept button. No name, no number, no other information. She picked up the phone and stared at it, until the call timed out.

"Huh. I wonder who's phone this is. It kind of looks like…Adrien's."

The phone rang again. No name, no number. Just 'accept'.

Swallowing her unease, she answered. "Hello? Marinette Dupain-Cheng speaking."

Like in every horror movie, the line filled with heavy breathing.

"Is this a joke?" Marinette scoffed.

The breathing turned to sobs, intermingled with sniffs.

"Hello? Are you okay?" She urged again. If this was a prank, she was going to murder someone.

The voice on the other line whispered, and she couldn't recognize them. "I can't get out. I can't!"

"Can't get out of where? Who is this?" Goosebumps raised on her skin, and a chill ran down her spine.

"I can't leave! I can't! I can't get out!"

"Who is this?! Where are you?! Let me help!"

"I'm here." And the call ended.

The house is haunted

By the echo of your last goodbye

Please remember I started this before season 4, so Alya doesn't know Marinette is Ladybug.