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“I’m in,” Sylvie said confidently.
“Fine. In,” Alice agreed.
I couldn’t believe I uttered the words with how scared I was at the thought, but I finally said. “I’ll do it.”
And then, I almost passed out.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Marge stood in my doorwaywaiting for the other Widows and me to finish dressing in layers for our ghost hunt. “Man, I would kill for some thermal night vision or an EMF reader. Roxie and I were watching a show last year, and they could totally see the cold spots where the ghosts were. It was so cool.”
“I don’t want to go. Please don’t make me go,” I begged as Sylvie wrapped a scarf tight around my head.
“It’s chilly out, so we don’t want to get cold,” she said ignoring me.
“At least your dresses are long,” Marge noted, pointing at her bare legs. “This kilt doesn’t cover a damn thing. But I’m not complaining. It’s better than ghost hunting in a damn dress. I still think this is dumb. We should just wear normal clothes. It’s late. We aren’t running into anyone but ghosts.”
“The rule is when we’re out of the rooms on castle grounds, we’re in costume,” Sylvie argued back.
“I’m with Marge on this one. It’s late. No one will even be around. We should change,” Alice said.
“It won’t take long to prove Marge wrong,” Sylvie replied. “And we agreed to dress historically when we’re moving about the castle. I don’t want to bump into Finley and Fiona in a track suit.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Marge grumbled. “Guess on the off chance we run into Finley and Fiona, we don’t want to get reamed out.”
“But it’s cold.” I pouted. “Maybe this once we could wear our regular clothes around the castle. Then we can dress warmer. Or ... we could skip it and stay here!”
“We abide by the rules,” Sylvie countered, ignoring my last plea. “We wear the historical clothes. Like I said, it won’t take long to prove Marge wrong. Our dresses are wool and should be plenty warm.”
“Fine,” Marge answered, “but those dresses better really be warm because chattering teeth will give away our location. No chattering, ladies. We need to stay quiet and in cover.”
“You’ll be the one chattering away with those bare-ass legs,” Alice said, then she tipped her head. “Although, with all that hair covering them, I suppose you’ll be quite warm.”
Marge glared at her, but Alice just grinned back.
“I suppose there is also another upside to Marge wearing that kilt.” Alice jutted her chin at Marge. “If we get spotted by the ghosts, we can all duck behind your hairy legs for cover. Those babies could hide an entire village behind them.”
