Chapter Thirty-TwoClare doubled over, vomiting what water was left in her stomach between her feet. The stench of death, decaying flesh and embalming fluid fought to equalise between the two rooms. It was a struggle to breathe. Clare held her nose, steeling herself against whatever was to come.
“You don't have to come in here,” Tina cautioned her. “In fact, I wish you wouldn't.”
“I've come too far,” Clare insisted. “There are answers in that room.”
“Perhaps sweetie, but maybe not any you may like.” Tina pushed the door wider, the noxious breeze subsiding as the airway increased.
Following her friend, Clare was glad she had already puked. “Tell me this isn't real.”
Tina turned on the light, an ancient chandelier with broken crystal appendages and three upturned light bulbs, one of whic
