"Marcia? It's been a long time since I've heard your voice..." Although Grace also found the flickering lights strange, she didn't think too much of it. She simply continued her friendly conversation with the woman on the other end of the phone. "Is there something I can help you with, calling so late?"
"What? You've decided to come over? Now?" Grace's voice rose in a series of exclamations, attracting the attention of people passing by.
Upon hearing this, Steve's paternal uncle couldn't help but frown and said, "What could have happened that makes it necessary to come right now?"
Grace also found it strange and politely declined, "Marcia, it's very late, and there's a blizzard in New York right now. It's really not suitable for travel. How about we pick another time?"
"I... am... almost outside the villa doors now." However, Grace heard the woman on the phone reply in a low, muffled voice.
Grace stood frozen on the spot. Looking at her parents and relatives standing by the hallway railing, she held the receiver and relayed the woman's words to everyone.
"Stop joking, how is that possible?" Steve's paternal uncle's eyes widened as he looked out the window at the dark, snowy night that howled like a pack of demons. This weather had lasted for three whole hours; he believed no one could possibly walk in such conditions.
"How did she make the call?" William's tone was a bit rushed. Beneath his furrowed brow, his pale green eyes showed a hint of unease. It seemed the psychological impact of the found-footage horror film from earlier that day still had a strong lingering effect.
This single question instantly silenced the entire villa. The air felt as thin as a patient whose oxygen mask had been removed, and a bone-chilling sensation surged through everyone's minds.
Because there were no phone booths anywhere near the villa.
It was still two years before the world's first commercial cell phone would be officially released. Mobile phones were currently only widely used in the military, and their civilian adoption was at least four or five years away. People's understanding of telephones was still limited to landlines.
Richard didn't know who Marcia was—likely a servant who had worked at the manor for a time—but he knew that the "Marcia" calling the villa right now was likely not the real person.
"Is this a prank?" Steve's paternal uncle said in a deep voice.
Grace heard a dial tone; the other side had hung up. She shook her head and managed a smile. "Marcia hung up. Maybe it really was a pra—"
Ding-dong—
However, before Grace could finish her sentence, the doorbell rang.
"This... this is a prank, right? It's not funny at all," William couldn't help but say loudly. He stared intently out the window, as if he could peer through the wind and snow to see a woman's figure behind the black fence.
Grace couldn't help but say, "Should we go open the door? No matter... no matter what, if this isn't a prank, if Ms. Marcia really is outside right now and we don't let her in, she'll freeze to death."
"We can't let her in," Steves paternal uncles wife flatly refused.
Soon, everyone was stuck in the quagmire of the "to open or not to open" debate, unable to extricate themselves.
While the deadlock remained unresolved, Old Man Harrington walked out of his room supported by Steves father. He said to the group, "James, Howard, you two go out and see what's going on. If you're certain you don't see anyone, come straight back."
Steve's paternal uncle and Steves father respectfully accepted the old man's instructions. Both returned to their rooms to get dressed, grabbed flashlights and firearms, and walked out the door toward the iron gate a hundred meters away.
At this time, Steve, who had just finished his shower, heard the commotion and came downstairs. He found Richard and asked about what had happened while he was away. Upon learning of such a bizarre event, his face changed drastically. He pulled Richard to a corner and whispered, "Chade, do you think this has anything to do with The Upside Down?"
"I'm sorry, I can't be sure what's going on right now either." Richard shook his head. Although the call Grace just received radiated a bizarre aura, there was no concrete evidence after all. Defining the situation based solely on a few suspicious points was somewhat ill-advised.
Furthermore, even if he internally hoped the harrington family wouldn't let the person outside in, he wasn't a member of this family and thus had no voice or decision-making power. Whether they were willing to let someone in depended entirely on the old man's attitude.
Steves paternal uncles wife leaned toward the window, and several younger members of the harrington family also pressed against the glass, hoping to see the shadows of the grown men of the house, even if it was just the faint light of a flashlight.
For the first time, they felt how inconvenient it was to live in a vast manor. The distance between the iron gate and the villa was so great; it distanced them from the mystery hidden behind the snowy backdrop, yet amplified the shadows of the unknown.
After staring toward the iron gate for a long time, the outlines of figures gradually emerged from the drifting snow.
"It's Dad and Uncle coming back," William reported to everyone, letting out a sigh of relief. "No one is following them. I don't see Marcia. It looks like it was just a prank."
Soon, the two middle-aged men, covered in snow and nearly frozen into ice sculptures after their brief excursion, returned to the house. They enjoyed the hugs and care of their family. Both Steves father and his paternal uncle stated that they were outside the iron gate and saw no one, including any sign of Marcia.
"It seems everything is fine. Let's get some sleep early," Old Man Harrington nodded and, accompanied by Steve's aunt, walked back into the house step by step.
The little interlude seemed to end there. Richard also calmed down; he hadn't even filled his water yet when he came downstairs.
Steve didn't dare return to his room alone. He followed closely by Richard's side. Perhaps because he had experienced too many bizarre and strange events lately, he was suffering from PTSD and felt that things wouldn't end quite so simply.
"Chade, want to play some games or something in a bit?" Steve kept a distance of about one step from Richard, matching his pace.
Richard glanced back at him. "Even though I know you're scared, this still feels a bit 'gay.' Let's not."
"Tell me, is it possible that the thing calling just now was a ghost or something? After all, we've already seen monsters from The Upside Down and that horror room," Steve swallowed hard as he entered the pantry with Richard.
In the pantry, Grace was brewing hot milk. When she saw her cousin and Richard, she teased without looking up, "Hey, you two really are close. You're inseparable every second of the day."
"Inseparable? Don't think like that. I'm only doing this to recommend a sister who can't find a good boyfriend to my excellent friend." Upon seeing Grace, Steve immediately changed his expression, putting on the air of a brother teasing his sister.
Grace rolled her eyes. "Then I really thank you, Steve."
Holding the freshly brewed hot milk, she passed by Steve and struck the pose of an angry kitten, giving Steve's shin a light kick. The latter feigned pain, staring with mock annoyance as the confidently strutting 'little yellow duck' departed.
"Haha, you get along very well with your aunt's two children," Richard laughed while filling his hot water.
Steve sat at the bar and smiled. "It's alright. Actually, our relationship with William is okay too, as long as he doesn't mimic his parents' snobbish attitude."
Richard smiled and said nothing. He didn't quite understand emotions like family affection. In his view, family was an emotional relationship naturally bound by something called 'bloodline.' No matter how terrible your first impression of that person was or how reluctant you were inside, you could only endure the socially recognized intimate relationship with them. You couldn't choose to establish or not establish a bond like you could with friendship.
Raising his eyes slightly, Richard frowned and suddenly asked Steve, "Steve, do the lights in your manor's front yard stay on at night?"
"Uh, no," Steve paused. Following Richard's gaze, he was stunned to see two faint beams of light shining in the snow. The light source seemed to be moving, slowly approaching. Vaguely, he seemed to see two familiar silhouettes.
"Steve." Steve's heart skipped a beat, his pulse racing. He looked blankly at Richard, who had called his name. He saw that Richard had already gripped a fruit knife, his fingers clutching the handle so tightly his nails were white. Richard looked at him and said, "Were the two people who just came in really Mr. James and Mr. Howard? If so, then who are the two people about to freeze to death outside?"