was. She could be anywhere in the solarium, watching me, stalking me with those haunted eyes.
A chill raced down my neck, and I bolted down the path, zigzagging through the plants to avoid being an easy target. Rounding the bend, I stopped short, seeing her silhouetted in moonlight by the window. Her hand pressed against the glass, as if trying to grab at something just out of her reach. She looked back at me, then headed to the left.
I peered out to see what she’d been looking at. The West Wing was clearly visible from this vantage, jutting out across the front lawn. It was dark, save for the light coming from one window on the second floor.
Lenore’s room.
My breath caught in my throat, nearly choking me, as I spotted a dark shape looking out from the window.
It was Lenore.
I froze, the hairs on my arms rising. The palms shifted again, and the rustle of a skirt that was not Lenore’s approached me. Mouth dry with dread, I turned and saw not Lenore but Rosalie and Ligeia, standing side by side, hands clasped together, with matching blue lips and frost in their hair. Their eyes were like milky marbles.
“Rosalie?” I dared to ask. She swayed back and forth, giving no indication she heard me. “Ligeia?”
Rosalie extended her free arm, pointing a finger at me. No, not me. At something just past me, over my shoulder. Slowly, as if pulled by an unseen string, their heads turned toward the right. Their bodies followed, crossing down the path, drawn by something I couldn’t see or hear.
I turned to see if Lenore had spotted her sisters, but her window was now empty and dark. Was she on her way down here? My heart jumped as I put it together.
They were on their way to her.
I broke into a run, pushing aside palm fronds, my bare feet slipping against the slick stones. I fell once, bashing my knee against a statue. Blood ran down my leg, trickling between my toes, but I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was getting to Lenore before my sisters did.
Every time I seemed to gain ground, they sped up, their movements a jerky blur, a vibrating haze painful to watch. The air buzzed as they shivered, and my eardrums felt as if they might burst.
My sisters reached the door. One moment, they were in the solarium with me, and the next, they were on the other side of the glass. I shook my head, certain it was a trick of the light, but Rosalie put her hand up to the pane of glass, pushing the door shut. It caught with a loud click.
I tried the handle, but they’d locked me in. I beat on the windows with my fists. When they grew too tender, I used my palms, then my feet, trying to shatter the glass.
My sisters watched me with a flat curiosity. Ligeia tilted her head to study the streak of blood across the glass after my knuckles split open. She pressed her fingers across the scarlet smudge.
“Let me out, please,” I begged. “You can’t leave me in here!”
She tapped at the spot once, then clasped Rosalie again. Her free hand reached out reflexively for Lenore, but it swung free, missing its mark. She looked down at the air beside her, clearly perturbed her hand remained empty.
With a nod from Rosalie, they were gone, buzzing down the hallway again with that awful vibrating movement. It was a relief to see their nightmarish visages go, but then I remembered Lenore and began banging on the doors again, crying out for help. I didn’t care if I woke the entire manor and everyone thought me mad. My sisters’ ghosts had to be stopped.
* * *
A series of soft clicks on the other side of the door woke me.
I lay crumpled against the glass panes, completely spent. My hands were raw and bloody, and I’d gone hoarse from screaming. After my sisters had blurred away, my eyes hadn’t seemed to work right, couldn’t focus on anything. I’d let them flutter shut, intending to rest them for just a moment, maybe two.
Suddenly the door opened and I fell, my head striking the wooden floor of the hallway with a painful crack. Gazing up, nearly cross-eyed, I saw the dark silhouette of Cassius peering over me with a candle, his face masked in concern.
“Annaleigh, what are you doing down here? You’re injured,” he said, taking my hands in