Por: Anna Katharine Green

In the hallowed halls of Grace Church, I became a married man. My bride, Miss Georgian Hazen, exuded an aura of contentment, seemingly delighted by her decision and the grandeur of our wedding. As we navigated the aisle together, her demeanor took a sudden shift. Her grip on my arm tightened, her expression strained, her happiness seemingly evaporated. I might have dismissed it as nerves, but something in her eyes told me otherwise... ...As the congratulations poured in, one particular whisper in her ear seemed to exacerbate her discomfort... ...She was with me as I signed our names in the register, but when I turned to accompany her to the elevator, she had vanished...(Excerpts from Chapter 1)

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