A knock rips me from a nightmare where I’m being chased by an army of angry ghosts. I jolt upright, my hand pressing over my chest as if that might calm my racing heart. The pounding is so loud it drowns out the fading remnants of the dream. My wide eyes scan the room, taking in every shadow, every still object. It’s empty—no vengeful spirits lurking in the corners, no movement except for the rise and fall of my own breath.
Another knock echoes through the silence, and this time I realize it’s not from some figment of my imagination. The sound is coming from my door.
“Miss Woods?” Mrs. Humphrey’s voice cuts through the stillness, all sharp and businesslike from the other side of the crimson-painted wood. “I have a meeting to attend, if you don’t mind.”
“She might still be sleeping. She
