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