March 20, 1959The house shuddered again last night, a suction, inhalation. When I told Mom, she said it’s gusty Ya-o-gah, the Northwind, making the home creak and moan. It was neither whistling wind nor creaking floorboards. A distinct pressure expanded and released a shuddering breath from the inside, not outside, the walls. A month ago, I believed it was a dream, but now, I realize the phenomenon arose within Twilight, not my head. Both events happened minutes after midnight.
Determined to find the source, I slipped from my bedroom, crept along the low-lit hallway thick with guests’ slumbering silence, past suites on the second and third floor, up to the attic but detected nothing. Descending to the Grand Hall, the floorboards vibrated beneath my feet as I continued across the shadowy s
