"BLONDE LIKE HONEY"

The next morning, Aurora and Max awoke early, determined to uncover the mystery behind the strange occurrences at the hotel. As they stepped into the garden, the air was fresh and cool, but the atmosphere felt different—charged, almost as though something unseen was watching them. Aurora felt a knot form in her stomach as she walked beside Max, who seemed deep in thought, his eyes scanning the horizon.

"I don't like this, Max," Aurora confessed quietly, her voice tinged with worry. "It's like the hotel is changing, but no one is talking about it."

Max squeezed her hand gently. "We'll get to the bottom of it, Aurora. We have to protect this place, our peace, and our family."

They decided to start their investigation at the old wing, the area where they had heard the laughter the previous night. The hotel staff had mentioned that the wing was under renovation, but no one had said much about what was going on behind the closed doors. The hallway, dimly lit, was eerily quiet. The doors to the rooms were locked, the dust of construction left behind, and the silence was oppressive.

As they walked deeper into the corridor, Aurora suddenly stopped, her eyes narrowing. There was a subtle draft in the air, and the unmistakable sound of creaking wood echoed down the hallway. A door, slightly ajar, caught her attention. Without a word, Max followed her as she slowly approached the door.

Inside, the room appeared abandoned, but the smell of old wood and dampness filled the air. As Aurora stepped in, she felt a chill run through her body. The room, though empty, had an oppressive weight to it, like it had been waiting for something—or someone—to return.

Max, sensing her unease, put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We're just investigating, Aurora. Don't worry, we're together."

Suddenly, Aurora's eyes caught a flash of movement from the corner of the room. A shadow, barely noticeable, flickered in the dim light. She gasped, her heart racing. Max turned sharply to face the direction she was looking, but there was nothing there.

"I saw something... a shadow. It was right there," Aurora whispered, her voice trembling.

Max looked around the room, but found no trace of anything unusual. "It's just the light playing tricks, Aurora. It's old wood, and the renovations are probably affecting the lighting."

But Aurora couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. It wasn't just the shadow, but the heavy silence, the way the air seemed to thicken around them. She stepped back, motioning for Max to follow her out of the room.

As they left the old wing, the sounds from the night before—the laughter and whispers—seemed to follow them. Aurora was certain that something, or someone, was trying to make itself known. But what was its purpose? And why now, when their lives had finally begun to feel peaceful again?

That night, as they lay in bed, Aurora couldn't sleep. Her mind raced with possibilities, trying to make sense of everything that had been happening. Max was asleep beside her, his breathing steady, unaware of the anxiety gnawing at her. She turned toward him, finding comfort in his presence, but her thoughts kept drifting back to the hotel and its strange happenings.

The next morning, they decided to confront the staff, hoping to get some answers. When they spoke to the manager, he seemed uneasy but confirmed that there had been strange reports about the old wing for years—unexplained noises, sudden cold drafts, and the occasional flicker of lights. But no one had ever investigated further. It was as though the hotel had chosen to ignore it, hoping the strange occurrences would go away on their own.

"Why hasn't anyone done anything about it?" Max asked, his voice tinged with frustration.

The manager hesitated before answering, his gaze shifting nervously. "Some things... some things are better left alone. The hotel has always had a certain... energy about it. And some people believe it's tied to the land itself."

Aurora's heart skipped a beat. The land? What did he mean by that? 

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

The manager seemed reluctant to answer, but after a long pause, he finally spoke.

"There are rumors, stories passed down from the original owners. Some say the land was once the site of an old mansion, destroyed in a fire many years ago. And others believe... that the spirits of those who perished in that fire still linger."

Aurora and Max exchanged a look. Was this just an old legend, or was there some truth to it? The mystery seemed to be deepening, and the tension was palpable.

Later that evening, as Aurora and Max sat together by the fire, reflecting on what they had learned, Aurora realized something: the feeling of unease she had been carrying wasn't just about the hotel—it was about the future, the life they were building. There was so much uncertainty ahead. She couldn't ignore it any longer.

"Max," she said softly, breaking the silence, "I think we need to be prepared for whatever comes our way. This... this feeling... I don't know what's happening here, but we need to protect our family."

Max nodded solemnly, his hand gently resting on her belly. "We will, Aurora. Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

But deep down, they both knew that their new life together was about to be tested in ways they hadn't anticipated. The hotel, the strange occurrences, and the land itself—everything seemed connected in some mysterious way, and they would need to confront it all to ensure the safety of the family they were about to start.