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Page 7 That evening you’re sitting at your desk still wondering what to do. You’ve just about decided to call the police and tell them everything you know, but you feel embarrassed about having called already. You pace around restlessly, then sit on the couch, thinking. You doze off. Your next sensation is that of a presence in the room, and unearthly presence. Half opening your eyes, you confront a blurred outline- as if the figure before you were fashioned out of fog condensed into human shape. Uncertain as the image is, you recognize it, and the shock of recognition freezes you. You grab the back of the couch and the armrest for support. Standing at the far side of the room is the ghost of Harlowe Thrombey! Turn to page 21-