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“So,” Kelsey said, refilling their glasses. “Ten days to go. Decorations ordered, catering confirmed, band rehearsing, fog machines en route.” She ticked off the list like a proud general.
Amy nodded, scanning her notes. “And the treasure-map concept is completed. Guests get a map at check-in, and it’ll lead them through key restoration points—each stop with a bit of history or one of the wellness retreat rooms. Massage studio, artist loft, yoga room, the guest suites.”
“Plus,” Kaitlin added, “we have the House of Mystery stops, featuring the witch marks that have been preserved. It’s educational, not just spooky.”
Kelsey grinned. “And for the daring ones, we’ll have the Widow’s Walk Experience. Extra donation needed for an escorted trip up there. We keep it safe but special. Raise extra funds, limit the crowd.”
Amy gave an appreciative laugh. “You two are turning this into an adventure park.”
“Classy adventure park,” Kaitlin said, winking.
“We’ve let other people tell its story for too long,” she said. “It’s time we tell the truth.”
Kelsey glanced up. “Meaning?”
“Verity and Jeremiah,” Amy said. “Not as ghosts. As people. We’ve got her letters, his sketches, the registry documents, all of it. Their tragedy isn’t horror—it’s heartbreak.”
Kaitlin’s eyes lit. “We could build the exhibit around that—display the letters, portraits, restoration photos. ‘Beyond the Legend: the True Story of Verity and Captain Jeramiah Blackwell.’” She jotted the phrase down, then underlined it three times. “It shifts tone completely.”
Amy nodded. “And in our press kit, we’ll frame the mansion as a story of reconciliation—human, historical, romantic. We’ll mention that we held a final memorial ceremony with a local historian and medium—quiet, respectful, for closure. And we believe the spirits are at peace.”
Kelsey leaned back, smiling. “That’s good PR, Ams. Honest PR. We turn a ghost story into a love story. Everyone will want to see the place.”
Amy looked around the table, at the shared exhaustion glowing into pride. “Exactly,” she said.
They clinked glasses.
“So what about costumes?” Kelsey asked.
Amy smiled. “Sully and I finally decided—we’re going as Verity and Captain Blackwell.”
“Oooh, dramatic and fitting,” Kaitlin teased. “It’s fitting because of Sully’s heritage, not the doomed love story.”
“Hopefully not doomed this time,” Amy said dryly. “Sully’s ridiculously excited. He’s been practicing pirate talk at me for a week.”
Kaitlin snorted. “There isn’t even any proof Captain Blackwell was a pirate.”
“True,” Amy said. “But apparently there is proof that Sully is crazy.”
“Well, there is definite proof of either insanity or heavy metal poisoning.”
“Oh! Almost forgot,” Kaitlin said suddenly, sitting up straight. “We found something—some portraits in the town-hall archives. Really old. I’m pretty sure a couple are connected to the Blackwells. One looks like the captain, and there’s one with a woman—could easily be Verity. I thought they might be perfect to hang at the gala. Maybe front and center?”
Amy’s pulse lifted. “That’s incredible. You honestly found them?”
“Still confirming identities,” Kaitlin said, already paging through photos on her phone. “But they’d add to the atmosphere—and after, we could donate them to the historical society and borrow them back for display. I know it doesn’t sound straightforward, but they really don’t belong to the town. Having them ‘owned’ by the historical society and on loan to display in the mansion gives them ownership and protection long after we’re gone.”
Amy reached over and squeezed her arm. “Do it. If the community sees its genuine history celebrated, it might make them see the house differently too.”
An idea occurred to her of including Sully’s paintings of the mansion and the island in the displays. She would need to talk him into it. That and posting his bio by the rebuilt staircase, explaining his painstaking replication work. They intended to include information about the renovation/restoration work in each of the rooms.
The women settled into a mellow rhythm of planning.
“What about the ‘Murder Room’ concept?” Kelsey asked thoughtfully.
Amy sighed and nodded. “It stays. I think it’s necessary with our goal of being upfront with the history, both bad and good. We need to handle it respectfully. A small, curated exhibit. The old press releases, a simplified timeline, the police photos and reports that Matt can share. It’s about respect, not sensationalism. I want visitors to understand the tragedy and to know who the victims were.”
“Good,” Kaitlin said softly. “Truth told right.”
