Violet sat in the library with Stephanie and Amir. They hadn’t moved much since they the day they died, and what was worse was that none of them had tried to find Tate. They knew he was dead in that house of his, and that he was stuck there just like them but no one went outside the school. This was where they died, not some car crash in a ditch. “Aren’t you aching to get back at him?” She asked, watching the living students pass by when the bell rang. “Don’t you want revenge?”
Stephanie rolled her eyes and disappeared while Amir roamed through the book isles, leaving Violet to her thoughts. If she could get into the house and sneak past the other ghosts, she’d have no problem getting to Tate. If anything, Violet would kill any ghost who got in her way. They’d come back shortly after, but it would give her enough time to slip past them.
Violet Harmon was going to confront her killer. She would go there and refuse to leave until she was able to move on. Before she could change her mind, Violet bolted out the library doors and down the hall to the exit. After she left the high school, Violet found herself in front of the house faster than she thought possible. Being a ghost had its perks. Time was neither here nor there. It didn’t exist for them.
She drifted to the back of the house where the basement door was. Rumor said this was where the ghosts hid. Slowly, Violet pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"Hello?" She called out, but got no answer. "Anyone here?" Again, nothing.
Before any of the other house victims could show up, Violet bounded up the stairs taking two at a time. The house was much bigger than it looked. It was dusty and old looking. “Tate!” Violet yelled, looking up the staircase. “Tate Langdon! I know you’re here. You can’t hide forever.”
The second she said it, she regretted it. Violet felt a hand close around her mouth and an arm slipped around her waist, pulling her into another room. Whoever it was, they pressed her back against the wall. When she looked up, she found the asshole she was looking for.
He seemed to be evaluating her — checking to see if she was dangerous or not. “Don’t touch me!” Violet screeched, pulling his hands off her, roughly shoving Tate against the door frame. “Why did you kill me, Tate? What did I do to piss you off?”