Day 4 started off with the usual morning routine for Veronica Lodge and Reggie Mantle. The sun cast soft beams through the apartment windows as they prepared breakfast, the scent of coffee and eggs filling the air. As they sat down at the kitchen island, Veronica was already deep into discussing her latest plan—a new speakeasy that she wanted to open under The Commons, a trendy spot downtown.
"I'm thinking we could recreate something like La Bonne Nuit back in Riverdale," Veronica explained, taking a sip of her coffee. "Only this time, I want to make it more exclusive, with a real strategic business approach. We could attract both the locals and out-of-towners. But I need to find the right space under The Commons first."
Reggie nodded, always supportive of Veronica's business ventures. "Sounds good, Ronnie. You know I've got your back, but..." he paused, lowering his voice as his eyes flicked toward Betty, who was seated on the couch scrolling through her phone. "About last night. You know, what Betty saw. Do you think we should be worried?"
Veronica set her coffee down, her expression growing more serious. "I don't know. This place is starting to feel... off. First, Cheryl sees something outside the office window during the party, and now Betty's seeing ghosts? It's not like Riverdale was free of weirdness, but this is different. It's unnerving."
Reggie ran his hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable. "Maybe we should talk to everyone. See if they've had any other weird experiences since they got here."
Veronica nodded, agreeing with him. "Yeah. Let's get Betty and the rest of the gang on a call."
As Betty continued binge-watching a drama on Amazon Prime, Veronica called the others—Archie, Jughead, Kevin, and Cheryl—to relay what had happened the previous night.
Betty, who had initially brushed off the ghostly figure she saw as a result of being overtired or perhaps a residual effect of her tipsy state, now seemed more on edge as she listened to the conversations. Each friend admitted to feeling strange vibes at the party. Jughead mentioned feeling an unsettling cold spot near the kitchen during the glass-shattering incident, while Cheryl couldn't shake the eerie feeling from what she saw outside the window.
"Something's definitely going on in this apartment," Betty said, eyes glued to the TV screen as she absentmindedly flipped through different shows. "And whatever it is, it's not friendly."
"We'll keep an eye on things," Veronica assured her friends before hanging up. "Let me know if anything weird happens on your end."
Later that afternoon, Veronica retreated to her new office to focus on discussing the speakeasy plans with her business contacts. She had just gotten off a call when she excused herself to use the bathroom. Everything seemed routine—until she noticed something strange.
The water from the bathroom sink was flowing unusually slow. Frowning, Veronica crouched down and opened the sink cabinet door, expecting to find a plumbing issue. Instead, she found something far more disturbing.
Tucked under the pipes were two objects: a dusty urn with the name "Diana D'Ambrosio" engraved on the front, and a silver locket that had an ominous bloody fingerprint smeared across the right side of the locket. Veronica froze, her heart racing. She had no idea how these objects ended up under her sink.
"What the hell?" she whispered to herself before immediately running out of the bathroom to tell Betty and Reggie.
Back in the living room, Reggie and Betty were laughing over an old story from high school when Veronica rushed in, her face pale.
"You guys need to see this," she said breathlessly, holding the urn and locket out in front of her.
"What is that?" Betty asked, sitting up straighter, her mood shifting immediately to concern.
"I found them under the bathroom sink," Veronica explained. "The urn has a name—Diana D'Ambrosio—and the locket... there's a bloody fingerprint on it."
Reggie stood up, looking at the objects in her hands with disbelief. "You're saying these were just under the sink? How the hell did they get there?"
"I don't know," Veronica admitted, shaking her head. "But this isn't normal."
Betty reached out and gingerly took the locket, her fingers trembling slightly. "This... this looks old. Really old. Do you think it belonged to someone who lived here before?"
Veronica nodded. "That's what I'm thinking. But why is there blood on it? And why was it hidden under our sink?"
Reggie took the urn from Veronica and inspected it closely. "Diana D'Ambrosio. Could she have lived here? Or maybe... someone else brought it here?"
Betty bit her lip, her mind racing. "We need to find out more about this Diana. If there's blood on this locket... it means something bad might have happened."
"Agreed," Veronica said. "We need to contact the others. Maybe there's something in the history of this apartment that can explain all of this."
The trio quickly contacted their friends, Archie, Jughead, Cheryl, and the rest, relaying what Veronica had found. The unease was palpable as they discussed their next steps.
"I think you should go to the library or check public records to see if this Diana D'Ambrosio ever lived in your apartment building," Jughead suggested. "I mean, finding an urn is not normal."
"And that bloody locket," Cheryl added, her voice sharp with concern. "Whoever that belonged to, there's a dark history there."
Veronica agreed. "I'll look into the building's records, and maybe there's something in the archives that can explain all of this."
As she hung up, Veronica stared down at the locket in Betty's hand, the dried blood an ominous reminder that something far more sinister was going on in their new apartment.
"Whatever this is," Veronica said quietly, looking at Reggie and Betty, "we're not going to let it control us."
Reggie nodded in agreement, but his face was shadowed with worry. "But what if it's already too late?"
The chill that had crept into their apartment the first night seemed to have settled in permanently, but they had no choice now but to face whatever was haunting them—and uncover the secrets of Diana D'Ambrosio before the spirits in their apartment became more than just whispers and shadows.