The evening was shrouded in a heavy, overcast sky, the kind that pressed down on the city of Harrisburg like a weighted blanket. A light drizzle tapped against the windows of the black van, its tires crunching on the gravel as it pulled into the small parking lot beside an old, crumbling church. The words “Harrisburg Haunted History” were painted in ghostly white letters along the van’s side, their reflection wavering in the rain-slicked pavement.
