This audiobook is narrated by a digital voice.

The letter arrived on a Tuesday morning, sealed with black wax that bore the impression of a raven in flight. Margaret Whitmore set down her teacup with trembling fingers as she read the formal script that informed her of her great-aunt Cordelia's passing and the unexpected inheritance of Ravenshollow Manor. The old estate, nestled in the fog-shrouded hills of northern England, had been in the family for generations, though Margaret had never set foot on its grounds.

At twenty-eight, Margaret had grown accustomed to her quiet life as a librarian in the small town of Millbrook. She lived alone in a modest cottage, surrounded by towers of books and the gentle ticking of her grandmother's mantle clock. The prospect of inheriting a grand manor seemed as surreal as the gothic novels she often catalogued in the library's fiction section.

The solicitor's letter mentioned that Aunt Cordelia had been quite specific in her will. The manor was to go to Margaret, but only if she agreed to live there for a full year. Should she decline or leave before the year was complete, the property would be donated to the local historical society. There was no mention of why such an unusual stipulation existed, only that it had been Cordelia's "most fervent wish."

Margaret had met her great-aunt only once, at a family gathering when she was twelve years old. Cordelia Blackwood had been an imposing woman with silver hair pulled back in a severe bun and eyes the color of storm clouds. She had studied Margaret with an intensity that made the young girl squirm, then nodded as if some silent question had been answered. They had exchanged no more than a few polite words, yet Margaret had never forgotten the way those gray eyes seemed to see straight through to her soul.