'Agatha'

Lila Rose Candler was an imaginative girl with a taste for mystery-her mind often wandered to hidden staircases and whispered secrets trapped in the creaking walls of her family’s sprawling, ivy-choked home in Savannah. She told her parents and teachers that she’d discovered a “hidden room” deep in the basement-a place she claimed didn’t always appear, but sometimes opened when the house was “holding its breath.” She said the room had no lights, only flickering shadows, and inside it she’d found a peculiar doll sitting upright in a chair: coal-black eyes, cracked paint, and reaching hands. A small tag on the doll read 'Agatha'.

Her parents assumed it was just another one of Lila’s elaborate stories. But then, one warm October night, Lila vanished. The house was searched top to bottom-especially the basement...but no hidden door, no secret room was ever found. Only Agatha was sitting there. Her head tilted slightly toward the stairwell, as if watching.

To this day, no one knows where Lila went. But those who’ve handled Agatha say her fabric feels warm sometimes. And on very still nights, you can swear you hear quiet breathing, not your own, coming from the dark corners of the Candler basement.