Follow Danny on this mysterious journey of the so called hunted "Harper House".
Follow Danny on this mysterious journey of the so called hunted "Harper House".
If you'd asked twelve-year-old Danny Carter about his summer plans two weeks ago, he'd have shrugged and said, "Nothing much." After all, summers on Maple Street were pretty much the same every year: hot days, melted popsicles, and trying to dodge chores. But this summer? This summer was shaping up to be the most epic one yet-and not necessarily in a good way.
It all started with a dare.
"Bet you won't do it," said Tommy Greene, grinning wide like the Cheshire Cat. Tommy was Danny's best friend, but he had a knack for getting them both into trouble.
Danny squinted at the old, abandoned house at the end of the street. Everyone in the neighborhood called it the Harper House, though nobody really knew why. It had been empty for as long as Danny could remember, its peeling paint and broken shutters giving it a spooky, forgotten vibe.
"You're chicken," Tommy teased, flapping his arms and making clucking sounds.
"I'm not chicken," Danny shot back, though his voice wavered a little.
"Prove it."
Danny swallowed hard. The dare was simple enough: go up to the house, touch the front door, and run back. Easy, right? Except for the fact that the Harper House was rumored to be haunted.
"C'mon, Danny," urged Sarah, Tommy's little sister, who had tagged along. She was holding a half-eaten bag of Skittles and looked way too excited for her own good. "You're not scared, are you?"
"I'm not scared!" Danny said, louder this time, as if saying it out loud would make it true. He took a deep breath, wiped his sweaty palms on his shorts, and started walking toward the house.
The gravel crunched under his sneakers as he approached. Up close, the house was even creepier than it looked from the street. The windows were dark and empty, like hollow eyes, and the porch sagged in the middle, threatening to collapse under the slightest weight.
"Danny, don't forget to knock!" Tommy called out, laughing.
Danny rolled his eyes. No way was he knocking. He wasn't that stupid. He stepped onto the creaky porch, heart pounding in his chest, and reached out to touch the door. His fingers had barely brushed the wood when-
SLAM!
The door swung open, making Danny jump back so fast he tripped over his own feet and landed on the porch with a thud.
"Danny!" Sarah screamed.
But it wasn't a ghost or a monster standing in the doorway. It was a girl. A girl about their age, with wild red hair, freckles, and a mischievous grin.
"Who are you?" she asked, hands on her hips.
Danny blinked up at her, too stunned to answer. Behind him, Tommy and Sarah ran up the porch, their curiosity getting the better of them.
"I thought this place was abandoned!" Tommy blurted out.
The girl shrugged. "It's not. My name's Hazel. My dad just bought this place. We moved in last week."
Danny felt his cheeks burn. He'd just made a fool of himself in front of the new girl.
"Uh, sorry for, you know, trespassing," he mumbled, scrambling to his feet.
Hazel's grin widened. "No worries. I've been watching you guys from the window. You're pretty brave, coming up here."
Tommy elbowed Danny. "See? I told you it wasn't haunted."
"Yeah, right," Sarah muttered. "You were just as scared as Danny."
Hazel laughed. "You guys are funny. Want to come inside?"
The three of them exchanged nervous glances. The Harper House-or whatever it was called now-still gave off major creepy vibes. But Hazel didn't seem scared, so maybe it wasn't so bad.
"Sure," Tommy said, always the first to jump into anything.
Danny hesitated but followed. What could go wrong?
As it turned out, a lot.
The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand. Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn. She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back.
Two years of marriage left Brinley questioning everything, her supposed happiness revealed as nothing but sham. Abandoning her past for Colin, she discovered only betrayal and a counterfeit wedding. Accepting his heart would stay frozen, she called her estranged father, agreeing to the match he proposed. Laughter followed her, with whispers of Colin's power to toss her aside. Yet, she reinvented herself-legendary racer, casino mastermind, and acclaimed designer. When Colin tried to reclaim her, another man pulled Brinley close. "She's already carrying my child. You can't move on?"
Leland, the world's most eligible bachelor and powerful President, was rumored to be in love-with Valerie, the nation's favorite punchline. Once rejected by his nephew and scorned for her looks, Valerie faced public outrage for "leeching" off Leland's status and entering government circles. Elite society mocked, rivals sneered. But the tables turned: the mafia king was spotted carrying her bags, scientists begged for her help, and Valerie saved the nation. As chaos erupted, Leland posted on the presidential account. "My wife wants to dump me-how do I win her back? Urgent advice needed!"
Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone. Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved. It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years. Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from. Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes. Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with.
Abandoned as a child and orphaned by murder, Kathryn swore she'd reclaim every shred of her stolen birthright. When she returned, society called her an unpolished love-child, scoffing that Evan had lost his mind to marry her. Only Evan knew the truth: the quiet woman he cradled like porcelain hid secrets enough to set the city trembling. She doubled as a legendary healer, an elusive hacker, and the royal court's favorite perfumer. At meetings, the directors groaned at the lovey-dovey couple, "Does she really have to be here?" Evan shrugged. "Happy wife, happy life." Soon her masks fell, and those who sneered bowed in awe.
For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted. Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke. Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph. Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!" With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off." A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!"
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