A Haunted Holiday?
Astrid watches her sister, Ingrid, toss everything she can into her suitcase, which will soon fly with her halfway across the world.
“How long will you be gone?” Astrid asks as her sister opens another drawer.
“Two weeks, at least,” she says. “The flight already eats away so much time!”
Astrid isn’t surprised. Ever since Ingrid’s business took off, she hasn’t had a vacation in almost three years. Still, her efforts paid off as that landed her a penthouse in an affluent community.
Ingrid inspired her, which is why Astrid took the plunge and finally sent her manuscript out to the world after years of keeping it in the dark. And, well, eventually, her efforts came to fruition as well.
Ingrid closes the drawer with her knee as she folds another shirt into her suitcase. “So… how does it feel?”
“How does what feel?”
“To be famous!” Ingrid exclaims.
That’s a bit of a stretch. But Astrid can’t deny that she’s enjoying her rising popularity. She never thought her story about a young woman taking back her kingdom would turn out to be so popular. It’s the perfect holiday present.
“How’s the sequel coming?” her sister continues. “Will Alice kill Rowen?”
Ah, yes, the devilishly handsome antagonist of the story.
“I don’t know,” Astrid says. “He really grew on me.”
“Alice would think you’d gone crazy.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not the protagonist.”
Ingrid closes her suitcase and tries forcing it closed. “You know what you should do?” She sighs when the suitcase springs open. “Why don’t you treat yourself like the empowering female protagonist you are?” Then, she jumps, sits on the suitcase, and gestures for Astrid to lock it. “Go out and have some fun over the holidays!”
“I already had all the fun I need.” After Astrid successfully locks the suitcase, she sighs after the effort. “Wine. A few friends. I’m pretty content with that.”
Ingrid hops off the suitcase and opens her small table drawer. “Well, are you ready to take on a little responsibility?” Astrid catches the keys Ingrid tosses her. “I need someone to look after the penthouse while I’m gone. You know… keep it clean and all.”
“So, let me get this straight. You can’t be here to support my book signing event in a few days… you also want me to be your maid over the holidays?”
“I couldn’t change my flight! I—”
“I’m just kidding,” Astrid says with a teasing grin. “
Ingrid pouts. “Hey, think about it this way… you get to stay at a penthouse for free over the holidays.”
“I didn’t know I was getting charged before,” Astrid deadpans.
“Oh, it’s all adding up,” Ingrid jokes. “I’m billing you yearly. But it shouldn’t even put a dent in your wallet.” She puts her suitcase upright. “Okay, jokes over. You in or not?”
Well, the thought doesn’t sound too bad. Ingrid’s penthouse is nice, and she has stayed here on more occasions than she can count. Comfortable and spacious with a nice view. So, spending the holidays there doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Astrid smiles at her sister, knowing that’s the answer her sister needs.
As soon as Astrid walks through the revolving doors of the building, Mindy, the receptionist, looks up and smiles. “It’s good to see you again, Astrid!”
“Well, you’ll see more of me,” Astrid says as she walks up to the desk. “I suppose my sister’s already told you I’m staying here for the holidays.”
The young woman chuckles. “She also told me to keep an eye on you. Now, what is that supposed to mean?”
Astrid scoffs with a slight smile. “You’ll have to ask her. What is that supposed to mean?”
“No boys yet?”
“Still a single pringle.” Then, the two start laughing. “Maybe that’s why I’m still single.”
“Well, I’m sure the right person will come along….” Mindy grabs something off the table and slowly holds it up. “Maybe… someone like Flynn?” Astrid smiles when she sees her novel and watches Mindy flip to a page. Then, she starts quoting from the book. “...He kissed me, igniting emotions that I thought were long gone. He pulled me closer, this tongue caressing my bottom lip—”
“Okay, okay!”
Mindy laughs. “What are you getting all embarrassed about? Flynn and Alice are good for each other! But…” Then, with a slight smirk, “...Rowen, though. I just… I need more of this man.”
“Maybe if you keep reading, you’ll get your wish.”
Mindy grabs a pen and puts the book in front of Astrid. “I need an autograph before you really blow up.”
“You think too highly of me,” Astrid says as she opens the pen.
“Nonsense! This book is great! If it was bad, trust me, I’d let you know.”
Astrid laughs as she writes a short, cute, personalized message to the receptionist who once told her that she probably needed to go on a diet a year ago.
“I don’t doubt that,” Astrid says. “But, I think you’d also give me unsolicited criticism.”
Mindy takes the book and pen back. “And then you’d probably cut me off and say, ’I didn’t ask.”
“Glad to know we understand each other so well.”
Then, Mindy puts a small piece of paper with a list of things written in your sister’s handwriting. “Ingrid asked me to give this to you.”
“Let me guess,” Astrid deadpans. “A list of things she wants me to do while she’s gone?”
“It’s not too bad,” Mindy insists. “This one”—she points to one point near the bottom of the list— “might be a little difficult, though.”
Keep my plants alive. “And if I don’t?”
“I think she knew you’d ask that.”
Astrid looks a little down the page and sees, ‘or I’m keeping your souvenir’ in her sister’s handwriting. “Always one step ahead,” Astrid deadpans as she slips the paper into her coat pocket.
And once again, Astrid is back in the penthouse. Astrid drags her small suitcase into the room she usually sleeps in and starts making herself home.
That evening, Astrid goes out to buy dinner at a nearby restaurant. She's waiting for the light to turn green when she senses someone staring at her. She looks up from her phone and sees two young women whispering. Finally, one of them approaches her.
“...Are you Astrid, by any chance? The author of A Woman’s Vengeance?”
“I am.”
The girls look at each other with wide eyes. Then, one of them eagerly asks, “Can we get a photo?”
It’s still such a strange, surreal feeling as Astrid watches the girls look over the photos they took. She never thought people would recognize her on the streets.
“I’m only halfway, but I have to ask… will Alice end up with Rowen?”
Astrid has always been a fan of the enemies-to-lovers trope, but instead, she says, “I guess you’re a fan of them.”
“They have chemistry!” her friend says.
“Will there be a sequel?”
Astrid winks at them. “It’s in the works.” She stops their curious minds by adding, “It wouldn’t be fun if I give too much away.”
One of the girls pouts. “I guess.” Then, she smiles. “Well, it was really nice meeting you!”
Astrid watches them walk away, their question lingering in the back of her mind. What will happen to Rowen and Alice? Star-crossed lovers destined for a life without each other? A spiral into demise? Redemption for killing Flynn? The possibilities are endless.
“Does he even deserve redemption?”
“Perhaps.”
Astrid stops and turns around. Where did that voice come from? But all she sees is the large garden fountain of the apartment complex. She looks into the water and sees a few coins. Guess making wishes is still a thing.
First, Astrid looks up at the statue of the three fates from Greek mythology. Then, she looks around. Well, why not? No harm can come from making a harmless wish. So, she puts her hands together.
“Here’s to hoping my book continues to do well… and maybe get some great ideas for a sequel.”
Her stomach grows loudly, so she turns back and quickly walks back to the penthouse.
“Goodbye, Rowen.”
Those were the last words before the ice-cold water engulfed him. Rowen was a strong swimmer, having had lessons since childhood. So why couldn’t he reach the surface? With every push, he got further and further away until the last of his strength gave way until…
A call from her editor interrupts Astrid’s rereading of her debut novel.
“Hey, hey! How’s that manuscript coming?”
Astrid looks at the blank document open on her laptop and scoffs softly. “Er, well, it’s coming, I guess.”
“...That doesn’t sound like a good sign. What’s wrong? Stuck?” Astrid doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s coming up empty. “You know I need to hear some progress soon, right?”
“I know. I just…”
“Hey, listen, it’s the holidays. So, take this week off and just relax.”
“Says the person who was just telling me to work harder,” Astrid deadpans.
“You know I love you.”
Astrid rolls her eyes. “You love me? Or the words I put on the page?”
Her editor laughs. “Both. Trust me. Anyway, as I was saying… take this week off. Maybe that’ll get some creative juices going.”
Astrid sighs. “I’m going to take a hot bath with some wine.”
“Now that’s the holiday spirit!”
After the call with her editor, it doesn't take long for Astrid to be sitting in the warm water. She closes her eyes, dips her head under, and suddenly feels lighter. She isn’t expecting to see herself completely submerged, floating beneath the depths of a lake or an ocean, when she opens her eyes. What in the world is this?
Astrid turns around, and that’s when she sees him.
A man.
A man wearing a white shirt and black pants floating aimlessly in the water.
Something small on a chain floats above him, and when Astrid gets closer, she notices it's a pendant around his neck. Why does she have a feeling that she's seen him before? He looks familiar… yet unfamiliar. His medium-length black hair, sharp blue eyes, and a nice jawline. It’s as if she’s looking at Rowen.
Astrid gently cups his face and looks up, and sees a bright light. She puts his arm around her shoulder and swims toward the surface. It’s tedious, but when Astrid finally breaks the surface, the light intensifies, forcing her eyes closed.
Astrid gasps loudly. Her eyes are wide as she sees the familiar bathroom wall. What was that? A dream? A vision? An out-of-body experience?
Astrid stands, grabs a towel, and wraps it around her as she steps out of the tub. She opens the door, and the steam on the mirror slowly starts to clear.
“God, I must be going crazy,” she mutters.
Then, she turns around and sees a man with medium-length black hair and sharp blue eyes in the mirror.
