Some structures do not forget. Caerthinn Castle has stood steadfast for four hundred years, its rowan trees grown black, its windows dark but for one light no one will admit to leaving lit.
Dr. Aisling Byrne comes to catalogue its ruin, not its ghosts. An architectural historian who reads buildings the way others read faces, she has spent forty years being told that what she perceives is too much, or not there at all, a thing to be managed and masked. Caerthinn is meant to be a quiet commission. Document the damage. Leave.
But the castle has been waiting for someone. Someone who can hear. Someone who needs to hear. In a chamber carved below the bedrock, a woman two centuries dead pressed the same denial into the stone until the walls could hold no more of it. Others came to Caerthinn before Aisling and were called mad for what they noticed. Now the people who decide such things are coming for her too.
The castle does not need saving. It needs a witness. And it knows exactly what Aisling is.
A debut Gothic ghost story about inheritance, perception, and the things we are told not to trust, "The Haunting of Caerthinn Castle" asks what we owe the silenced, and what it costs to finally listen.