Friendly Ghosts of Attic

A blend of humor and haunting memories,  "Friendly Ghosts of the Attic" follows Alex’s unexpected journey through a mysterious attic where three playful yet poignant spirits reveal their stories. As the line between laughter and sorrow blurs, Alex finds himself caught in a world where ghosts seek redemption—and he might be the key. A story of life, death, and the ghosts that remain with us forever.

Chapter 1: The Arrival and First Encounter

Alex had always been a bit of an oddball. While most of his friends enjoyed binge-watching horror movies from the safety of their couches, he preferred something a little more… immersive. So when he heard the rumors about the Jenkins House—an abandoned mansion on the edge of the sleepy town of Millbrook—he couldn’t resist.

The locals warned him, of course. They whispered stories about lights flickering in the attic late at night, strange sounds echoing through empty halls, and voices that seemed to drift on the wind. But to Alex, this only made it all the more tempting.

He arrived at the Jenkins House on a dusky evening just as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that stretched across the mansion’s cracked facade. The house loomed, silent and eerie, with ivy crawling up its weathered walls. A chill ran down his spine, but he brushed it off, chalking it up to excitement. Armed with nothing but a flashlight, a dusty old “spirit meter” he’d bought online, and a questionable sense of courage, Alex stepped into the house.

______

The Attic Beckons

Inside, the house was even creepier than he’d imagined. The air smelled of mildew and old wood, and each of his footsteps creaked against the floorboards, as if the house were groaning under his weight. He tiptoed past tattered furniture and empty picture frames, making his way up the narrow staircase that led to the attic.

The attic door stood before him, its paint chipped and peeling, with an odd, almost tangible aura around it. Alex swallowed, gripping the doorknob. With a deep breath, he turned it and pushed the door open.

What he saw inside wasn’t exactly what he’d expected. Rather than the empty, haunted attic he’d pictured, the room was filled with what looked like… people. At least, people from another time. They were faintly transparent, their figures hazy and shimmering, but their expressions were unmistakable: annoyance, boredom, and in one case, sheer disinterest.

_____

The Ghostly Club Members

“Who’s this now?” grumbled a heavyset man with suspenders, squinting at Alex. “Great, another live one. Just what we needed.”

Before Alex could even process what he was seeing, a young woman in an elegant, old-fashioned dress sighed dramatically. “Look at him, barging in here like he owns the place. No manners whatsoever,” she sniffed, adjusting an imaginary necklace around her translucent neck.

The sight before him was bizarre enough that Alex had to stifle a laugh. These weren’t just ghosts. They looked like members of some eccentric social club—people from completely different eras, all stuck together in this dusty attic.

The young woman, apparently the self-appointed leader, raised an eyebrow at him. “And you are…?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Uh… Alex,” he stammered, still wide-eyed. “I… I just wanted to check out the house. Didn’t expect… uh, well… all of you.”

The woman rolled her eyes, introducing herself with a slight curtsy. “Name’s Lily. I’ve been here since 1912, thank you very much.”

The heavyset man with suspenders raised his hand lazily. “I’m Joe. Died in the ‘60s. Heart attack during a poker game. Still bitter about it, if I’m being honest.”

At this, a lean, young guy with round glasses waved and gave Alex a nod. “I’m Max,” he said cheerfully, though he looked slightly jittery. “Aspiring writer, 1928. Never got to finish my novel… still working on it, actually.”

“Oh please, you’ve rewritten the first page a thousand times,” Lily snorted. Max shot her a withering look, but she ignored him, instead turning back to Alex.

“Anyway,” Lily said, flicking a speck of ghostly dust off her dress, “welcome to our humble little club. Or, as we call it, the Attic Association of Unfinished Business.”

Alex blinked. “The… Attic Association?”

Joe grumbled again. “Not by choice, pal. You think we like being cooped up here? But once you’re in the attic, you don’t get out.” He jabbed a thumb toward the door. “Unless, of course, you’re still among the living.”

____

An Unusual Invitation

Alex’s brain was working overtime trying to make sense of it all. He’d expected eerie chills, maybe even a few spooky whispers, but not a whole committee of quirky ghosts with their own “club” rules and dynamics. He took a cautious step forward, still clutching his flashlight.

“So… you’re all just… stuck here?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

“That’s right,” Max replied, sounding resigned. “We’ve all got unfinished business, and apparently, that’s enough to keep us hanging around this dusty old attic.”

“And that’s where you come in,” Lily added with a sly smile. “You seem… curious. Maybe even a little eager. How about you help us out?”

“Help… you?” Alex echoed, feeling a growing sense of dread. “With… what, exactly?”

Joe folded his arms. “Oh, you know. Little things here and there. Just enough to help us move on. Each of us has something we need, something that’s kept us here for… well, decades.”

Alex considered it, a little uneasy but undeniably intrigued. “So, if I help you with whatever it is, you’ll… leave?”

Max grinned, a slightly manic glint in his eyes. “More or less! And if you play your cards right, you might just get out of here without ending up as a new member of the club.”

____

The First Task

Lily gave him a knowing look. “We could start with me, of course. I’d say I’m overdue for a little closure,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “All I need is a bit of information… from a century ago. Think you can handle that?”

Alex gulped, but curiosity got the better of him. “Alright, I’ll… see what I can do.”

“Good boy,” Lily said, smirking. “Then, welcome to the Attic Club, Alex. And remember… once you’re in, you may find it hard to leave.”

As Alex turned to go, a chill ran down his spine. The ghosts watched him closely, each wearing a peculiar expression—some mischievous, some longing, and some with an eerie glint that made his skin crawl. He had no idea what he’d just signed up for, but there was no turning back now.

_______

Chapter 2: Lily’s Task

After his peculiar initiation, Alex was still reeling from the bizarre mix of characters now occupying his evening. He’d wanted an adventure, sure, but “helping ghosts find closure” was never part of the plan. Yet here he was, with Lily’s vaguely-worded task hanging over him.

He leaned against the attic door, taking a breath to steady himself. Max gave him a thumbs-up from his spot by a dusty stack of papers, clearly amused by Alex’s wide-eyed unease.

“Better get started, mate,” Max quipped. “Lily’s not exactly known for her patience.”

“Understatement of the century,” Joe grumbled, rolling his eyes. “She’ll haunt you while you’re sleeping if you don’t hurry up.”

“Ha-ha,” Alex muttered, but the thought sent a chill down his spine. He turned to Lily, who looked almost pleased with herself, a slight smirk on her face. She folded her arms, staring at him expectantly.

“So, what exactly am I supposed to do?” he asked, hoping her answer wouldn’t involve anything too bizarre.

Lily sighed, looking like a teacher stuck explaining a simple concept to a particularly dense student. “It’s simple, really. I had a locket—a beautiful gold locket with a small portrait inside. It was a gift, and very dear to me. I lost it the night I… well, you know.” She waved a hand around, indicating her current state.

“And you want me to… find it?” Alex asked, hesitating.

“Precisely,” Lily replied with a nod. “It’s still here somewhere. And finding it might just help me move on.”

Max chuckled. “Oh, she’s tried finding it a thousand times. You’d think after a hundred years she’d let it go.”

“Keep talking, Max, and I’ll put that ‘unfinished novel’ of yours in the attic fireplace,” Lily snapped, her eyes narrowing.

_______

The Hunt Begins

Armed with Lily’s vague directions, Alex headed down the narrow stairs, his flashlight casting elongated shadows along the hallways. He’d never explored the Jenkins House beyond the attic, and each creaky floorboard seemed to mock him as he stumbled through the dimly lit rooms.

“First floor, left side,” Lily had instructed. “I remember putting it on a shelf in the study. Or maybe it was the parlor…” She’d trailed off, clearly unsure.

Alex sighed as he peered around, feeling both foolish and slightly unnerved. The old house had a way of amplifying silence; every rustling leaf outside, every creak, felt amplified tenfold. And then there was the faint echo of the club’s chatter in his mind—a sort of reminder that he wasn’t alone, even if he couldn’t see them.

As he walked into the study, Alex’s flashlight flickered. He stopped dead, waving it back and forth, feeling an unsettling sense of being watched. “Focus, Alex,” he muttered to himself, forcing his feet to move. He scanned the shelves, dust-covered and piled with odd trinkets. There were rusted picture frames, glass bottles filled with murky liquid, and books so old they seemed to crumble at the slightest touch.

____

A Troubling Discovery

After a few minutes of searching, he saw something glinting behind a pile of old journals. It was a locket, gold and elegantly designed, with a delicate chain looped around it. Alex held it up, admiring the intricate design.

“Found it!” he said aloud, his voice echoing in the empty room.

In a blink, Lily appeared beside him, nearly startling him into dropping the locket. She was beaming, eyes gleaming with a look of triumph. “That’s it!” she said, reaching out. Her hand passed through it, and she sighed in frustration. “Of course, I can’t actually hold it.”

Alex gave her a sympathetic look. “So, what now? I just… put it somewhere?”

Lily shook her head. “No. There’s something else. I need you to… to place it on the windowsill in the attic, right where the moonlight touches.”

Max’s voice floated in from behind them. “I told you she was dramatic. Windowsill, moonlight—it’s like something out of a cheap romance novel.”

Alex stifled a chuckle, glancing back at Lily, who was glaring at Max with a look that could kill—if she were still capable of that, anyway.

“Fine,” Alex said, lifting the locket carefully. “To the windowsill it is.”

____

The Attic Ceremony

Back in the attic, the atmosphere was almost surreal. Lily had positioned herself by the window, waiting with an air of anticipation. Max and Joe hung back, pretending not to care but clearly interested.

Alex placed the locket on the dusty windowsill, just as Lily instructed. The moonlight cast a pale glow over it, making it look oddly beautiful. For a brief moment, the air felt charged, as if something monumental were about to happen.

Lily’s face softened, her gaze fixed on the locket. “It was a gift from someone I loved,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “I never got to tell him… how much it meant to me. Or how much he meant to me.”

The silence that followed felt almost sacred. Alex looked around, unsure what to say, but the moment was interrupted by a sudden loud snort—Joe, trying to hold back laughter. “And here I thought you ghosts were all about spooky curses and stuff, not ‘love confessions in the moonlight.’”

“Joe!” Max hissed, elbowing him. But Alex saw Lily’s expression change. For a moment, she looked deeply sad.

“It’s fine, Joe,” she said softly, her voice barely a whisper. “I guess… even ghosts have regrets.”

And with that, she vanished, leaving the locket behind. The room felt colder, emptier, as if a part of the air itself had just been lifted. Alex stared at the spot where she’d stood, feeling oddly moved. Maybe there was more to these spirits than he’d thought.

_____

A New Bond

Later, as he was getting ready to leave, Max approached him, grinning. “Nice job, Alex. You survived Lily’s first request. Maybe you’re not so bad after all.”

“Thanks… I think?” Alex replied, still a bit dazed by the whole experience.

Max clapped him on the back, looking far too pleased with himself. “Now that you’re officially our ‘helper,’ there might be a few more things we could use a hand with. Unfinished novels, lost poker debts, the usual.”

Joe snorted again. “Speak for yourself. I’ve got nothing left but complaints.”

Alex laughed, feeling a little lighter. “Guess I’m the unofficial member of the Attic Club now?”

“Yep,” Max said with a wink. “And remember—Lily may seem cold, but deep down, she’s just like the rest of us: a little lost and a lot bored.”

The night ended with a strange sense of camaraderie, one Alex hadn’t expected. He left the house that night knowing he’d be back, both for the ghosts—and for himself.

______

Chapter 3: Max’s Gamble

Alex returned to the Jenkins House the following evening, feeling strangely eager. The attic’s familiar musty scent greeted him, along with the faint buzz of the old lamp hanging overhead. Max, Joe, and Lily were already gathered, looking expectant.

“Back so soon, eh?” Max quipped, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I guess we didn’t scare you off.”

“Not yet,” Alex replied, shrugging. “Although I’m not sure what other tasks you’ve got lined up for me.”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I can think of a few things—especially for Joe here, who’s never even attempted to find closure.”

Joe grumbled something under his breath, clearly uninterested in baring his soul. “Spare me the therapy session,” he muttered.

Max stepped forward, his grin widening. “Well, Alex, seeing as you’re in a helpful mood, I’ve got something a little… different in mind. Something that’s been haunting me for years.”

Lily rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Let me guess, Max. Another poker debt?”

Max gave a dramatic sigh. “It was one game. One game, and I was so close to winning the biggest pot of my life.” He leaned closer to Alex, his tone dropping. “If I had won, I’d have gone down in history as the man who bested the great ‘Red Tommy’ at his own table.”

Alex couldn’t help but laugh. “You want me to… play poker on your behalf? That’s not exactly what I signed up for.”

“No, no,” Max said, waving his hand. “The game’s long over, obviously. But there’s something I left behind at that poker table—my lucky pocket watch. I lost it in that final hand, and it’s been eating at me ever since. It’s still somewhere in town, probably sitting in that old saloon by the docks. I just need you to get it back.”

Joe rolled his eyes. “Leave it to Max to turn a ghostly request into a treasure hunt.”

Max grinned, unbothered. “Trust me, Alex. You bring back that pocket watch, and you’ll be the hero of the attic.”

____

A Night at the Saloon

Alex set out that night with directions to the old saloon, a place he’d never been to despite living in town his whole life. The building was ancient, with creaking floors and a peculiar mix of scents—cigarette smoke, stale beer, and something faintly medicinal.

The place was practically deserted, save for a bartender polishing glasses at the far end of the bar. Alex approached him cautiously, clearing his throat. “Excuse me, I’m looking for something. An old pocket watch, left here… a long time ago.”

The bartender eyed him suspiciously. “Lot of things have been left here over the years, kid. What makes you think it’s still around?”

“Well, it belonged to a friend of mine, Max. He, uh… he used to play poker here a lot.”

The bartender chuckled, a knowing gleam in his eye. “Ah, that Max. Always a big talker, that one. Lost that watch in a big game, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, trying to keep a straight face. “So, any chance it’s still here?”

The bartender hesitated, then nodded toward a dusty glass case in the corner of the room. “We keep some of the old memorabilia in there. Keeps the legend alive, you know?”

Alex followed his gaze and saw it—the pocket watch, its once-polished surface now dull with age. He reached out to take it, but the bartender’s voice stopped him.

“Tell Max that Red Tommy always suspected he was bluffing.”

Alex grinned. “I’ll pass that along.”

____

A Reluctant Reunion

Back in the attic, Alex handed Max the watch, and for a moment, Max looked almost… moved. He reached for it instinctively, only to realize he couldn’t actually hold it. His hand passed through it, and he sighed, looking wistfully at the timepiece.

“It’s been so long,” Max murmured. “That watch was with me through every high and low. My lucky charm. I lost it all that night, but somehow, having it here now feels… different.”

Lily and Joe watched, their usual banter absent as they gave Max a moment of silent respect. Even Joe looked a little softer, his usual grumpiness replaced by a hint of understanding.

After a pause, Max turned to Alex, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. “Thanks, mate. You really came through. And as for you, Joe, maybe it’s time you considered what’s keeping you here.”

Joe snorted, his gruff demeanor returning. “As if I’d open up to a couple of sentimental fools. I’ll stick around for my own reasons, thanks.”

Alex chuckled, glancing at the three of them. “Maybe it’s time I hear Joe’s story next.”

Joe rolled his eyes but said nothing, the ghostly equivalent of shrugging. “You’ll be waiting a long time.”

_____

The Attic Pact

That night, as they gathered around, a sense of camaraderie settled over them. Alex felt like he was part of something much larger than himself—a quirky, spectral family that had somehow adopted him.

Max cleared his throat, clearly a little emotional after the pocket watch episode. “Alright, Alex. You’ve proven yourself. I think it’s safe to say you’re one of us now.”

“An honorary member of the Ghosts in the Attic Club?” Alex asked, smirking.

“More than honorary,” Lily added, giving him a rare smile. “You’re the only one here who can actually… well, hold things.”

The group shared a laugh, and Alex realized how much he’d come to care for these spirits, each one unique and haunting in their own way.

The night ended with a renewed sense of purpose, the ghosts opening up a little more each time Alex helped them. He knew there were more stories to uncover, deeper layers beneath each haunted soul. And he was ready, eager even, to uncover them.

____

Chapter 4: Joe’s Secret

For days after the pocket watch episode, Joe avoided Alex more than usual, retreating to the shadowy corners of the attic whenever Alex tried to strike up a conversation. The other ghosts noticed, but none seemed willing to push him.

“Joe’s story isn’t like Max’s or mine,” Lily explained one evening, her face unusually somber. “He’s… well, let’s just say his past still haunts him.”

“Isn’t that the point of being a ghost?” Alex replied, trying to lighten the mood. But even he could feel the weight of Joe’s presence lingering in the attic.

Max leaned in, whispering, “Rumor has it Joe wasn’t exactly… an upstanding citizen in life. There are stories—some say he was running from something, others say he had blood on his hands. He’s never confirmed any of it, of course.”

Curiosity got the best of Alex. He knew that helping Joe might be his toughest challenge yet, but he also felt an urge to uncover the truth. And tonight, he’d finally get his chance.

___

A Nighttime Confrontation

It was past midnight, the attic heavy with silence. Alex sat near one of the small windows, looking out at the moonlit rooftops when he noticed Joe standing alone by the old trunk in the corner, lost in thought. Steeling himself, Alex walked over and cleared his throat.

“Joe… I want to help. Whatever’s keeping you here, maybe I can—”

“You can’t,” Joe interrupted, his voice rougher than usual. “Some things are better left in the past, kid.”

“But isn’t that the point? You’re still here, which means there’s something you need to face,” Alex pressed, refusing to back down.

Joe looked away, visibly tense, before finally sighing. “Alright, kid. You want to know why I’m here? Fine. But don’t expect a happy ending.”

Joe’s eyes glazed over, his expression hardening as he began his story.

___

A Dark Past Unveiled

Joe had lived a rough life—one filled with poor choices and regret. He’d been a drifter, taking odd jobs in shady places, barely scraping by. In one town, he’d gotten involved with a group of men who offered him easy money for dangerous work. At first, it was just small jobs, things he didn’t question too much. But over time, he got pulled deeper into their world, until he was practically living on the run.

His last job had gone wrong. Horribly wrong. “I was supposed to drive,” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. “Just keep the engine running while they… did what they had to do. But things got out of hand, and I was too scared to stop it.”

Alex listened in silence, the full weight of Joe’s confession settling over him. Joe had spent his last years hiding, consumed by guilt, running from a past that eventually caught up with him.

“I tried to make amends, kid,” Joe said, his voice breaking. “I really did. But the damage was done. I spent my last days in this very house, hiding out… until one night, I just didn’t wake up.”

___

A Task Beyond Redemption

Alex swallowed, unsure of how to respond. Joe’s story was darker than anything he’d anticipated, and he understood now why the other ghosts hadn’t pushed him. But despite Joe’s guilt and shame, Alex could see the pain he’d been carrying all these years, his regret etched deeply into his every word.

“So… what can I do to help you find peace?” Alex asked finally, his voice steady but gentle.

Joe hesitated, his gaze fixed on the floor. “There was a family,” he murmured. “A young couple and their kid. I never got a chance to apologize. And I doubt they’d even want to hear it now. But if you could… find them, let them know… I’m sorry.”

Alex nodded, feeling the gravity of Joe’s request. This wouldn’t be easy, but he knew it was the only way for Joe to find closure. “I’ll find them, Joe. And I’ll tell them the truth.”

____

An Unlikely Encounter

The next day, Alex took a train to the nearby town where Joe had mentioned the family had lived. He tracked down an old address with some help from the town clerk and, eventually, found himself at a small, modest house at the end of a quiet street.

An elderly woman answered the door, her face cautious yet kind. Alex introduced himself carefully, explaining that he had a message from someone in the past.

The woman’s eyes grew misty when he mentioned Joe’s name. “My husband… he always wanted to forgive,” she said, her voice soft. “He used to say that anger only trapped the living. But I… I couldn’t let it go, not after what happened.”

Alex told her Joe’s story—his regret, his last days spent in isolation, and his lingering need for forgiveness. When he finished, the woman was silent, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “It’s been so long… but maybe it’s time to let him rest.”

____

A Final Farewell

Back at the attic, Alex relayed the conversation to Joe, who listened quietly, his gaze distant. As Alex spoke, he could see a change in Joe—a softening, a release of the tension he’d held for so long.

When Alex finished, Joe nodded, his voice barely audible. “I don’t deserve forgiveness, but… maybe I can move on now.”

The other ghosts gathered around him, even Max, who placed a comforting hand on Joe’s shoulder. They all seemed to understand the weight of this moment, even Lily, whose usual wit was tempered by solemn respect.

As Joe’s figure grew fainter, Alex felt a pang of sadness. Despite everything, he’d grown to care for Joe in his own way.

“Thanks, kid,” Joe murmured, his form shimmering. “You gave me something I never thought I’d get—a second chance.”

And with that, Joe’s spirit dissolved into a soft light, leaving the attic emptier, yet somehow warmer.

____

Chapter 5: The Last Goodbye

With Joe’s departure, a quiet calm settled over the attic. Max and Lily remained, their presence comforting yet subdued. For Alex, the days seemed fuller yet lonelier without Joe’s brooding figure lurking in the shadows. He couldn’t shake the sense that his journey in the attic was drawing to a close, that he’d served his purpose here.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm, golden light across the attic’s dusty floorboards, Alex felt an unexpected shift. It was as if the very air had softened, embracing him in a gentle, bittersweet farewell.

_____

A Moment with Max

Max, the ever-cheerful prankster, seemed different tonight. He sat by the window, his usually animated face contemplative. As Alex approached, Max turned to him, his grin replaced by a look of quiet nostalgia.

“You know, kid, I’ve been here for a long time. Long enough that I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to really… live,” Max said, his voice softer than usual. “But watching you stumble in here with that ridiculous flashlight, thinking you were some kind of ghostbuster? That brought life back into this place.”

Alex chuckled, remembering the clumsy way he’d first explored the attic, certain he was on the verge of discovering some dark secret. Little did he know that he would end up befriending a group of misfit spirits.

“I’m glad I could be of service,” Alex replied, his tone half-joking but tinged with emotion. “But… what happens now?”

Max shrugged, looking down at his transparent hands. “I think maybe it’s time for me to move on too. You’ve shown me that it’s okay to let go of the things we cling to, the fears and regrets. I don’t think I’m scared of what’s next anymore.”

They shared a long, silent moment, Max’s figure shimmering faintly in the dim light.

“Thank you, kid. For reminding me that life’s a little less scary with someone to share it with—even if that someone is a bit of a scaredy-cat,” Max said, his familiar grin returning.

With a final wink, Max’s figure faded, leaving the attic a little emptier, but Alex’s heart a little fuller.

____

Lily’s Farewell

As Alex turned, he noticed Lily standing by her writing desk, her expression distant yet peaceful. Her fingers ghosted over the edges of the papers, her journal now closed, its secrets finally released.

“I didn’t think saying goodbye would be so hard,” she murmured, her eyes meeting Alex’s. “But there’s a part of me that’s ready to see what lies beyond. I think there’s more out there, something waiting for me. You made me feel like I wasn’t forgotten, like my voice was still heard.”

Alex nodded, understanding her words in a way he couldn’t quite explain. “Lily, your story… it deserves to be remembered. I won’t forget any of you.”

A small, grateful smile touched her lips. “Thank you, Alex. For letting me tell it. And for listening.”

With a final glance around her beloved attic, Lily took a deep breath. And then, like a wisp of morning fog in the sun’s first light, she vanished, leaving only the faint scent of ink and lavender behind.

_____

A New Beginning

Alone in the attic, Alex felt the weight of his time here settle upon him. The memories, the laughs, even the scares—they all left a mark on his heart. As he turned to leave, he noticed a small object glinting on the floor: the old, dented pocket watch Joe had carried. He picked it up, holding it gently in his palm, a reminder of the lives he had touched—and that had touched him in return.

Downstairs, he found his parents in the living room, surprised to see him with an almost wistful smile.

“Did you find what you were looking for up there?” his mother asked, clearly puzzled.

Alex only nodded. “Yeah. I think… I did.”

They moved soon after, but Alex never forgot the attic. And though he no longer saw ghosts in the same way, he felt them—a presence, a memory, lingering around him in moments of quiet. When life became hectic or he felt lost, he’d find himself thinking back to those long nights with Max’s pranks, Lily’s stories, and Joe’s regret.

_____

Years later

Years later, Alex found himself telling the story of The Ghosts in the Attic Club to friends, to family, and even to strangers. The story took on a life of its own, growing richer with each retelling. People laughed at Max’s antics, felt a tug at their hearts for Joe, and found inspiration in Lily’s courage.

And somewhere, perhaps in some quiet attic or forgotten corner, three spirits listened, smiling as their stories continued to live on.

_____