I smirk despite myself. “Yeah, something like that. Let’s see if we can find out anything useful about that key. Maybe there’s a ghost bored enough to chat.”
“Or rant,” Luca adds with a wink. “Old ghosts love a good rant. Especially the ones who think they’re still living in the 1800s.”
“And you’d know how?”
“Ah—” he cracks a grin. “Good old Humphrey ranted about it one day.”
“Oh, I see.”
We grab our coffees, and Luca leads the way out, holding the door open with an exaggerated flourish. I roll my eyes at him but can’t help the smile tugging at my lips.
As we make our way to the Werewolf History display room, the vibe changes. The corridor is dimly lit, and the old portraits hanging on the walls seem to watch us with accusing eyes. It’s colder here, too, the kind of chill that seeps
