stairs.
Crossing through the vestibule to the corridor, I listened—the screams had seemed close when I was in my room, but now it was clear they were coming from the far end of the school. I heard movement behind me and turned to raise my lamp. Olivia walked toward me, her own lamp in hand. A shorter figure followed close behind her. It seemed to be the domestic science teacher, but I was unaccustomed to seeing prim Miss Taylor in her nightgown and ruffled cap.
“Where is she? Where is the screaming coming from?” Olivia’s face was strangely contorted in the flickering lamplight.
“It might be the chapel,” I whispered.
“I know we must help her, but my feet are heavy as iron,” cried Miss Taylor, “and I can barely catch my breath. Shouldn’t we get Miss Crenshaw?”
“It’s only fear that weighs us down,” said Olivia. “That girl is in distress.” She slipped her arm through mine and nodded toward the darkness at the end of the corridor. Biting my lip, I stepped forward with her.
The screams grew louder as we neared the chapel. Strange crashing noises filled the gaps between them.
Miss Taylor whispered from behind us. “Is she knocking over the furniture?”
“ Something is knocking it over,” said Olivia, pulling me closer as we came to stand before the door. She withdrew her arm from mine and grasped the doorknob. It would not turn. She handed Miss Taylor her lamp and put both hands to the knob. Still it would not turn.
“It’s locked,” she gasped.
“There is no lock on that door,” cried a voice from behind us. Miss Crenshaw emerged, white-faced, from the darkness of the corridor. She carried no lamp, and her gray hair hung in an untidy braid over her shoulder.
“How can that be?” The lamp swung wildly in Miss Taylor’s trembling hands. The screaming continued in the room, though the voice was growing hoarse and less piercing.
“Let me,” said Miss Crenshaw, brushing past us to apply her own hands to the doorknob. When her efforts failed, she pounded on the door. “Let go of the knob! We wish to help you.”
Olivia clutched at the principal’s shoulder. “The screams are too far away. She can’t be holding the knob.”
Miss Crenshaw stepped back, her hand to her mouth. There was a final crash and a terrible cry, and then … silence.
“Try the door now,” I said.
Eyes wide with fear, Miss Taylor shook her head. Miss Crenshaw still clutched at her mouth. Finally, Olivia stepped forward and put her hand to the knob. Each of us gasped as it turned in her hands and the heavy door opened.
Taking the lamp back from Miss Taylor, Olivia walked a few steps into the room and out of our sight. After all the commotion, the near silence was suffocating. There was a pause, followed by an audible intake of breath. Swallowing my fear, I walked through the doorway to join her.
The chapel was freezing cold—so cold I could see my breath billowing in the lamplight. Holding the lamp high, I looked about the room. It was an absolute wreck. Pictures had fallen off the walls, and nearly every piece of furniture lay on its side. Every window was wide open. And at the center, in a shivering heap, lay Lucy Sharp, her right leg pinned under an overturned desk.
Chapter 10
W HEN M ISS C RENSHAW SAW L UCY’S BODY twisted under that enormous two-seat desk, she seemed to regain her wits and immediately began barking out orders like an army captain.
“Miss Taylor, you must fetch Dr. Stewart. Nurse Gott should prepare a bed in the infirmary—Miss Adair will alert her. Miss McClure, you fetch Jimmy to get this desk off the girl’s leg. We’ll need his help in setting the room to rights.”
When we stared at her numbly, she softened ever so slightly.
“I need you all to stay calm and focused. Now please do as I directed.”
I shook myself and followed the other two through the doorway, intent on finding Jimmy in the kitchen. But when we stepped into the corridor, he was already standing
Crossing through the vestibule to the corridor, I listened—the screams had seemed close when I was in my room, but now it was clear they were coming from the far end of the school. I heard movement behind me and turned to raise my lamp. Olivia walked toward me, her own lamp in hand. A shorter figure followed close behind her. It seemed to be the domestic science teacher, but I was unaccustomed to seeing prim Miss Taylor in her nightgown and ruffled cap.
“Where is she? Where is the screaming coming from?” Olivia’s face was strangely contorted in the flickering lamplight.
“It might be the chapel,” I whispered.
“I know we must help her, but my feet are heavy as iron,” cried Miss Taylor, “and I can barely catch my breath. Shouldn’t we get Miss Crenshaw?”
“It’s only fear that weighs us down,” said Olivia. “That girl is in distress.” She slipped her arm through mine and nodded toward the darkness at the end of the corridor. Biting my lip, I stepped forward with her.
The screams grew louder as we neared the chapel. Strange crashing noises filled the gaps between them.
Miss Taylor whispered from behind us. “Is she knocking over the furniture?”
“ Something is knocking it over,” said Olivia, pulling me closer as we came to stand before the door. She withdrew her arm from mine and grasped the doorknob. It would not turn. She handed Miss Taylor her lamp and put both hands to the knob. Still it would not turn.
“It’s locked,” she gasped.
“There is no lock on that door,” cried a voice from behind us. Miss Crenshaw emerged, white-faced, from the darkness of the corridor. She carried no lamp, and her gray hair hung in an untidy braid over her shoulder.
“How can that be?” The lamp swung wildly in Miss Taylor’s trembling hands. The screaming continued in the room, though the voice was growing hoarse and less piercing.
“Let me,” said Miss Crenshaw, brushing past us to apply her own hands to the doorknob. When her efforts failed, she pounded on the door. “Let go of the knob! We wish to help you.”
Olivia clutched at the principal’s shoulder. “The screams are too far away. She can’t be holding the knob.”
Miss Crenshaw stepped back, her hand to her mouth. There was a final crash and a terrible cry, and then … silence.
“Try the door now,” I said.
Eyes wide with fear, Miss Taylor shook her head. Miss Crenshaw still clutched at her mouth. Finally, Olivia stepped forward and put her hand to the knob. Each of us gasped as it turned in her hands and the heavy door opened.
Taking the lamp back from Miss Taylor, Olivia walked a few steps into the room and out of our sight. After all the commotion, the near silence was suffocating. There was a pause, followed by an audible intake of breath. Swallowing my fear, I walked through the doorway to join her.
The chapel was freezing cold—so cold I could see my breath billowing in the lamplight. Holding the lamp high, I looked about the room. It was an absolute wreck. Pictures had fallen off the walls, and nearly every piece of furniture lay on its side. Every window was wide open. And at the center, in a shivering heap, lay Lucy Sharp, her right leg pinned under an overturned desk.
Chapter 10
W HEN M ISS C RENSHAW SAW L UCY’S BODY twisted under that enormous two-seat desk, she seemed to regain her wits and immediately began barking out orders like an army captain.
“Miss Taylor, you must fetch Dr. Stewart. Nurse Gott should prepare a bed in the infirmary—Miss Adair will alert her. Miss McClure, you fetch Jimmy to get this desk off the girl’s leg. We’ll need his help in setting the room to rights.”
When we stared at her numbly, she softened ever so slightly.
“I need you all to stay calm and focused. Now please do as I directed.”
I shook myself and followed the other two through the doorway, intent on finding Jimmy in the kitchen. But when we stepped into the corridor, he was already standing
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