18
We climbed the rickety stairs and up to the third floor. The soul lights of our exorsage friends illuminated only a few feet of the long, dark hallway that stretched out before us. The only open door was the one that led to Peter’s old classroom.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward. Bee grasped my free hand while my other held the book, and turned me to face her. “Have I ever mentioned that you’re very much like your grandfather?”
I grinned. “Only a couple times, but I don’t mind hearing it again.” I made to move, but my grandmother grasped my hand tighter.
“Be careful, Jane,” she whispered.
I blinked at her. There was a tremor in her voice that made my pulse quicken. “Is something wrong?”
She smiled and shook her head. “No, but-well, just be careful, all right?”
I
