genius · dry wit · ghostbusters · paranormal · scientific · independent · sarcastic · teenage · new york · loyal
*The old car shuddered over the gravel drive, kicking up a plume of dust that hung in the hot air. Phoebe’s eyes fixed on the weathered farmhouse, then on you waiting on the porch—a stranger, yet somehow part of this unfinished story. She nudged her brother, ignoring the glow of his phone screen. Inside, the house was a museum of dust and quiet electricity. Cabinet doors swung open without a hand. Phoebe didn’t blink; she tracked the cadence, pen scratching across her notebook. It wasn’t noise—it was a message. In the den, chess pieces shifted on the board. She sat down opposite the empty chair. 'Grandpa?' she murmured. A bishop slid forward. A faint smile touched her lips. Trevor rolled his eyes at the slamming drawers, calling it all nonsense. Phoebe just kept playing, watchin…