Poor paintings on the wall

Louise's breath quickened, and her eyes moved all around the place that included the space behind the wooden divider, but there was no one except her. While she was being spoken to, she had believed it was Graham, only to realize it was the ghost.

Getting out of the bath and drying herself, Louise walked up to the mirror and looked at her neck, which looked smooth without any markings on it.

She had sensed the ghost in the past, but during that time, the ghost had never come so close to her, speaking to her.

Only if she had turned sooner, thought Louise to herself. She would have seen the ghost's face, who had impersonated Graham's voice. It made her wonder if the ghost had picked her to be the next one to die. But if it could, it would have killed her in the bathtub, thought Louise to herself.