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to regain her composure.”
    “Wait — you’re saying that the woman who is up there to protect my wife is freaking out?”
    “What I’m saying is —”
    Whomp! Whomp!
    Max grabbed the edge of the wooden table, a splinter digging into his palm. Dust fell from the hanging ceiling lamp and two glasses toppled over in the sink.
    Libby said, “We heard the music you played. The music from the twenties. Is that when you’re from? Did you die in the twenties?”
    The banging grew louder and continued to shake the house. On the monitor, Max watched as a lamp next to the crib shattered. Sandra leaped out of the way as Libby yelped.
    Jack typed furiously, his eyes wide and lips quivering. “This is off the charts. I’ve never seen anything remotely close.”
    The shaking eased back. Max steadied his legs as he strode toward the stairs.
    Looking up from his work, Jack said, “Hey, what are you doing?”
    “You’re nuts if you think I’m staying here while my wife is being threatened.”
    Max hopped up the stairs and rushed down the hall. As he burst into the baby’s room, he saw Sandra kneeling on the floor while Libby raised her arms toward the ceiling.
    “Please,” Libby said. “We’re here to listen. Tell us what you want.”
    The house thumped like a massive heart pulsing around them. Cracks traveled up the walls and across the ceiling. All the lights flicked on and off. The floor lurched to the right. A loud creaking filled the air like the whine of tearing metal as a boat sinks beneath the ocean.
    But the house did not sink. In fact, Max caught a glimpse of two people passing on the sidewalk outside — neither appeared to take notice of the house. Could this all be some sort of illusion? A hallucination?
    “We’re not here to harm you,” Libby shouted above the constant banging. “We offer help. We offer peace.”
    Max stumbled across and took hold of Sandra. She buried her face in the crook of his arm. He could feel her shivering. He had never heard the previous attack, and that one had hurt her badly. How much worse would this be since he could hear it all now?
    A surge of electricity snaked from the wall outlets up to the ceiling, breaking apart drywall as it moved. The room brightened in stark light and the banging reached a fevered rhythm.
    Then all went dark.
    An odd clunk hit near the door.
    Max kissed the back of Sandra’s head. They were both covered in drywall dust and breathing hard. A new thumping — Jack coming up the stairs.
    “Everyone okay?” he called.
    “We’re fine,” Libby said. “You get all that?”
    “I hope so. As far as I can tell, everything's recording perfectly. Y’all just stay still. I’ll go downstairs and reset the circuit breakers.”
    “Thank you. And thanks for recording it all.” Max could hear Libby’s smile. “This may turn out to be the greatest documented case ever.”
    A few minutes went by, and soon the hall lights clicked back on. Sitting in the doorway, Max saw a blue bottle. As Libby moved closer towards it, Max straightened. A second later, Sandra stood by his side.
    Libby lifted the bottle — about the size of a wine bottle and clear blue all around. “Is this what made that last sound?”
    Max put out his hand. “May I?”
    She held out the bottle but was slow to let go. Max examined it. “Looks like your ghost has a sense of humor.”
    “Oh?”
    He pointed to the name printed into the blue glass — CASPER.

 
    Chapter 9
     
    The morning sun still had to wait a few hours as Max pulled into the driveway of their new home. Neither he nor Sandra had ever owned a newly constructed home before — one that no other person had ever slept in, ate in, lived in. The all-brick house stood on a third of an acre like a castle nestled amongst numerous other castles in a neighborhood where all the street names were related to Robin Hood (Sherwood Drive, Nottingham Road, and the most obvious, Robin Hood Road). Clicking the remote to open the garage, Max