Joan was already waiting near the door, her figure tall and rigid in the half-light. Elara hesitated by her bed, wringing her hands so tightly her knuckles gleamed white. The faint glow of moonlight crept through the cracks in the nailed-shut windows, painting long silver stripes across the floor.
"Now," I mouthed. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure it would wake the entire dormitory.
Joan eased the door open. Its hinges whined, and we all froze. But the sound faded into silence, and no one stirred. She gave a sharp nod. We slipped into the corridor, closing the door carefully behind us.
The east wing hallway stretched empty, shadows clinging to the walls. The dim lanterns mounted along the plaster cast more gloom than light. I could almost imagine the Psycho Alpha's silhouette leaning in the corner, waiting. My skin prickled, but when I looked, it was only darkness.
