“Well, what makes this any different than a dead librarian showing you to her granddaughter, so she could help you do research?” he asked sarcastically. “There is definitely something odd going on here and I don’t think it really has anything to do with helping you research your paper.”

“Justin, you open that,” she said, pointing to the folded paper in his hand. “I don’t think I can emotionally handle it right now.”

“You’re letting your imagination get the better of you, again,” Justin stated as he ripped the end open.

He blew into the end to loosen the sides before shaking the contents free, a tattered pieced of stiff paper. Brushing dust from the object, he revealed a tin-type photograph of a couple dressed in late Victorian-era clothing, taken outdoors, in front of a large greenhouse. The older man stood behind the young woman with one hand resting possessively on her shoulder, a malevolent sneer on his face. The man’s expression was made all the more sinister by the fact that his eyes were hidden beneath bushy eyebrows and by the thickness of the mutton-chop whiskers that skimmed his jacket collar. The young woman, who looked remarkably like Susan, sat in a small upholstered chair, her hands resting demurely in her lap, with her back ramrod straight. Although the woman’s lips were curved into a weak smile, only sadness could be seen in her eyes.

Justin turned the photo over and read the message scribbled across the back in a small, flowing script. “Susan, it says, ‘You will never be unfaithful again! A.’ and ‘June, 1902’ is printed in a corner.” Turning his head, Justin noticed the color had completely drained from his wife’s face, leaving her a ghostly shade of white and she was beginning to tremble in fright.

“She looks like me,” Susan whispered. “They’re in front of our greenhouse, and he said ‘You will never be unfaithful again!’ Justin, she looks like me!” Susan’s voice rose in pitch and began to crack as she continued. “Why does she look like me?” She sat down with a thump on the wooden floor, grabbed her head and began to weep. Unable to think of anything else to do, Justin sat next to his wife and rubbed her back while her body shook with the force of her sobbing.

Leaning over to place a kiss on her temple, he whispered, “I think we need to do some serious research and maybe we’ll be able to figure exactly what is goin’ on around here. I don’t really believe this is all happening just because you’re researching a paper; I think there must be some other reason these things are happening.” He continued to stroke Susan’s back as he looked once again at the old photograph. The longer he stared at the young woman in the picture, the more he felt that it was his wife staring back at him—and she was obviously just as frightened as the woman who was sobbing next to him. Justin began to think that there really was a reason to be afraid ….

To Be Continued ….