Evelyn Greenwood died at a party and never left the house. She could not remember who handed her the drink, only the cold glass and the taste going wrong. Now she drifted through walls, floors, and ceilings, hunting the one thing that might give her back her body and her place among the living. But the front door refused her. And on certain nights, the house woke up and watched her. Tonight was one of those nights. The air thickened. The floorboards leaned toward her green glow like ears. Evelyn knew the feeling. When the house noticed her, she hid, and she lost hours, and she learned nothing. She had wasted too many nights this way. She forced herself upward through the ceiling into a room she had always fled before. A study. Dust lay thick on everything. The watching pressed harder against her, like a hand closing. Then she saw the record player. It sat on a desk, silver and strange, covered in glowing runes. Beside it leaned two records. One showed blue waves and a single word: WaterShip. The other was black and purple, ringed with grinning skulls and crescent moons. Its label read: The Killer, Lady Moon. The killer. Evelyn's cold went colder. The house surged. The walls bent inward. Every instinct told her to sink through the floor and vanish. Instead she reached for the record with her name of fear written on it. Her hand should have passed through. It did not. Her green fingers gripped the edge. She dropped it onto the arcane turntable and pushed the arm down. The needle caught. Sound poured out, low and wet, like water under ice. The room filled with pale light. Above the player, a shape rose from the glow. A woman. Tall, with a full moon burning behind her head and long hair that moved without wind. Her skin was gray-blue. Her eyes shone white and empty. She looked down at Evelyn with a face carved from cold stone. The house went silent. The pressing hand let go all at once. "You played my song," the woman said. Her voice scraped like a key in an old lock. "No one has played it since the night of the party." Evelyn stared. "You were there. You know who killed me." The woman smiled, and it was not kind. "I am the one the house answers to. The house watched you for me." She drifted closer. "And now you have called me out of the record. That cannot be undone." For the first time, the house did not frighten Evelyn. The thing that frightened the house stood before her instead. She had stopped hiding and won the whole night. But she had traded a watcher she could flee for one she could not. "Then tell me," Evelyn said. "Who gave me the drink?" Lady Moon turned toward the door Evelyn could never pass. "Walk with me, and perhaps you will learn."