Whispers Between The Walls
midnight when I s
urs: the groan of old wood, the ticking of the grandfather clock at the end of t
sleep, and something in me kept tugging toward
blazer draped over a nightshirt and leggin
osed to be out
it easier
-
was a cathed
fainter-like lavender or candle wax or time itself. The only light cam
e what I was
ce didn't control me. That I could move t
es bowed the shelves. Eventually, I ended up in the back corner,
's when
a
ett
opedias like it had been
till alone-then sl
o name on t
al presse
n in f
gers t
ld've
ened
-
who walk be
een. You
r, you must prove you k
further instructio
and lose the c
gn
.
e folding it back and tucki
.
take muc
et O
by bored rich kids, like a ghost story at a bonfire. But
-
e footsteps unti
nd, heart i
e he
f the aisle.
ove. Neith
the ancient floorboards, the light f
o one noticed when yo
mine. "I never said
but only because the
like I was a question he
ander around at
ldn't
use o
t wasn't even a te
n't a
dn't
down to my pocket
what you're
le-more sad than smug. "
hy
t is meant for someone who
y cold. "Then maybe I'
r. "That's the problem
him, defensive.
g," he said. "Even
d between us lik
ated him in that moment o
aid finally. "Before someo
o you
don
e was softer
the way out, I felt him t
-
d at the ceiling, he
d anyone abo
asked for
had f
sure whether I wa
ollo
-
fog over Ravencroft
. I didn't see him at the Corvin table, and
elt eye
wa
test scent of winter air and something darker-like cedar and ink. When I looke
er curfew. Th
. No si
en he said, Some people are bui