My parents kept me home from school, and I turned off my phone and holed up in my room for the rest of the day. I needed time to think.
If Sinclair and Ms. D. had nothing to do with the letters to the Brothers, who was sending them and, more importantly, why? The Brotherhood was over, dead. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would go after their former members.
I read the letters sent to each of the victims over and over again. I scanned all of the articles on the headmaster and his half brother. I stared at the yearbook picture of Ms. D. and ex-Headmaster Sinclair. But nothing was adding up, nothing was making sense. Finally I fell into a fitful sleep.
Hours later, I woke with a start. My heart fought my rib cage, knowing before I could that something was wrong. But as my eyes swept across my bedroom, everything was in order. A book hadn’t fallen off the shelf. My phone hadn’t vibrated across my nightstand, and neither of my parents was awake. Everything was in place. For some reason, that only made my heart drum faster.
The neighbor’s dog barked, and I jolted to a seated position. There was no going back to sleep. I could either crawl into bed with my parents in homage to my seven-year-old self or I could put on my big-girl pants and check things out on my own.
As slowly as I could manage, I untwisted the sheets from around my legs and placed my bare feet on the wood floor. It was kind of an out-of-body experience. I was that girl in the horror movie that everyone in the audience begs not to go down into the basement. Don’t turn on the lights. Don’t walk outside the tent to explore the creepy noise.
Just. Don’t.
And yet I did. And I knew it wasn’t going to end well, but I just couldn’t seem to stop myself. I made a mental note to quit judging those bimbos quite so harshly in future screenings.
Inhaling deeply, I crept to the side of the window and craned my neck to peer through. The yard was empty, trees still, street clear. A car was parked a few houses down, but the lights were off and the inside completely dark. I let some air escape my lips. Maybe I was imagining things. Maybe I’d just had a weird dream or something.
But then a warm glow lit the side of the house. The neighbor’s dog barked again. Someone or something had triggered the motion light in the backyard. It spilled to the front. Someone was out there. I glanced at my parents’ bedroom door shut tight and wondered how alarming it’d be if I threw it open and jumped into their bed. It was their job to protect me, after all. But as I hesitated in front of it, I couldn’t bring myself to touch the handle. Besides, if they heard me scream, they’d be out there in two seconds flat. It’s not like I was home alone or something.
So my new horror-movie-heroine persona avoided the squeaky steps and tiptoed to the first floor and into the dining room. Long shadows swept across the room from the light spilling in, and I could’ve sworn they shifted for a split second. Or maybe I blinked. Either way, my hands shook and my knees buckled. Hugging the wall, I inched closer to the window, holding my breath as though it’d give me away. And then the room went black. The backyard was once again doused in darkness, and I could barely see my hand in front of my face. Whoever or whatever had been back there was gone.
As fast as I could, I darted back up to my bedroom, landing heavily on the squeaky steps this time, and jumped into bed. The covers felt like armor, so I pulled them to my chin, my eyes pushed wide with fear.
And there it was.
A single notebook page lay at the center of my room, the loopy orange script visible even in the pitch black. I ran my fingers over the tiny tears that lined the edge of the paper. It looked like someone had just torn it out of her journal moments before leaving it here. In my room. For me.
Grace might as well have been lounging in my bed, pen in hand, cheek resting on her open palm. I saw her as clear as day, could practically hear pen dragging across paper as she wrote her careful words, lips moving silently as her hand slid across the page.
So much for resting in peace.