The small town of Willowbrook was nestled between rolling hills and dense, whispering forests, a place where time seemed to slow down and the world outside barely made an impression. On the edge of town stood an old, abandoned mansion, its once-grand walls now weathered and covered with patches of moss and climbing ivy. The windows, shattered and clouded with grime, gazed out like dark, hollow eyes, giving the house an air of mystery and forgotten stories. Every day, children from the neighborhood would gather near the fence that separated the mansion from the rest of the town, daring each other to venture closer. Some whispered that the house was haunted, haunted by the spirits of those who had once lived there. Others believed it was simply a relic of a bygone era, left to decay as memories faded and time moved on. Despite the rumors, the mansion held an undeniable charm, as if it was waiting patiently for someone to uncover its secrets. On a warm summer afternoon, a girl named Lily ventured closer to the abandoned house. She had always been curious about its history, drawn by the stories she had heard from her grandmother. With a small flashlight in hand and her heart pounding with excitement, Lily pushed open a rusty gate that squeaked loudly in protest. She stepped onto the overgrown lawn, where wildflowers and tall grass rustled gently in the breeze. The air was tinged with the scent of damp earth and old wood, a smell that seemed to whisper stories of the past. As she approached the house, Lily noticed the intricate carvings on the wooden door, now faded and chipped but still hinting at a time when craftsmanship was valued. She hesitated for a moment, then gently pushed the door open. It creaked loudly, revealing a dark interior filled with shadows and dust. Inside, the house was a maze of rooms and corridors, each telling its own silent story. Wallpaper hung in tatters, revealing glimpses of once-bright colors beneath layers of grime. Furniture covered in white sheets looked like ghostly shapes, frozen in time. Sunlight streamed through broken windows, casting fractured patterns on the creaking floorboards. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, dancing with the gentle breeze that seeped through the gaps in the walls. Lily's footsteps echoed softly as she moved through the rooms, her eyes catching sight of a grand staircase that spiraled upward, its banisters adorned with delicate carvings now dulled by age. She wondered about the lives that had once filled this house, about laughter and tears, about secrets hidden beneath the layers of decay. As the afternoon turned into evening, Lily felt a strange sense of connection to the house's quiet history. She imagined the long-ago parties, the family dinners, and the quiet moments of solitude that might have taken place within those walls. Though the house was abandoned and falling apart, it still seemed alive with memories—stories waiting to be told again. She knew she would return someday, eager to uncover more of the house’s hidden history and perhaps, one day, help restore its forgotten beauty.

Answer the following questions based on the passage above.