“Great. Fine.” I reach for my flip-flops. As I bend down to pull them on, I catch movement again—a flash of light out of the corner of my eye. Annoyed at my own paranoia, I twist around to catch the inanimate object playing tricks on me.
Except this time, it isn’t a trick. A pale, blurred shape bolts directly under my bed.
A cry of pure panic escapes me. I leap toward Ariah, grabbing her arm so hard she winces, and point a trembling finger at the frame of my bed.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, glancing between the bed and me. “I swear, if it’s a spider, I’m out.”
“There’s someone down there,” I choke out.
Her brows shoot up, her expression skeptical. “No, there isn’t. No one can get into this room without a key or a Guardian pass.”
“Ariah,” I force the words out, my voice tight. “There is
