This audiobook is narrated by a digital voice.

The brass key felt unnaturally cold in Eleanor Hartwell's palm as she stood before the towering iron gates of Ravenshollow Manor. October mist clung to the Yorkshire moors like ghostly fingers, and the Victorian mansion loomed against the grey sky with an air of forgotten grandeur. She had never expected to inherit anything from her great-aunt Cordelia, let alone a sprawling estate that looked as though it had been plucked from a Gothic novel.

Eleanor pulled her wool coat tighter against the autumn chill and inserted the key into the gate's lock. The mechanism turned with surprising ease, as if it had been waiting for her arrival. The hinges groaned in protest as she pushed the gates open, their sound echoing across the moor like a warning.

The gravel drive crunched beneath her boots as she made her way toward the manor's imposing front entrance. Gargoyles perched along the roofline seemed to watch her progress with stone eyes that held too much intelligence for carved rock. The windows on the upper floors reflected the grey sky, giving them the appearance of blind, staring eyes.

She had received the solicitor's letter three weeks ago, informing her that she was the sole heir to Cordelia Hartwell's estate. The woman had been a virtual stranger to Eleanor's family, mentioned only in whispered conversations that ceased whenever Eleanor entered the room. All she knew was that Cordelia had been her grandmother's younger sister, a woman who had never married and had spent her life in self-imposed isolation at Ravenshollow Manor.

The front door stood beneath a Gothic arch carved with intertwining roses and thorns. As Eleanor approached, she noticed that the door stood slightly ajar, revealing only darkness beyond. She was certain the solicitor had mentioned that the property would be secured, yet here was clear evidence that someone or something had been here recently.