My mother’s name. No. I was focusing on it. I was only imagining it.

Leslie.

The second time I knew I’d caught it, each consonant sliding out from an ectoplasmic throat. I took a deep breath. No, I’d never come to harm from a ghost, but the only ghosts I knew were Mae and her sisters and Cora’s easily dissuaded specter—and they were surely not the only dead people, so I could hardly consider them representative of the spirit world as a whole.

“Who’s there?”

My question invited the presence closer. Something was different about this entity. Something about its voice, or its touch, suggested more strength than mere spirit had ever shown me. I clenched my fists and held them against my thighs, refusing to move. A faint, chuffing gust of air came and went close against my skin. It was sniffing me, smelling me—tickling the sticky inside crooks of skin at my elbows and under my chin.

It snorted a hard puff of stale air against the side of my face. Not Leslie. It didn’t sound pleased.

“No,” I admitted. “Not Leslie.”

It drew close again, dusty breath rasping against my ear and ruffling my hair.

But I know you.

“No. I don’t think so.”

I know you, it insisted.

“You don’t.” My fright-induced patience was growing strained. “Go away. Let me alone. I’m not here for you and there’s nothing you want from me.”

Ah. It withdrew. Now I do know you. And I will do as you command, for it was you that brought me here. A hateful laugh, distinctly audible, bounded throughout the clearing and echoed itself into nothingness.

I felt alone again. Shaken, confused, and suspicious, but at least alone. I didn’t care who the being thought I was, so long as it left me.

While I still had the nerve to do so, I sought out my last conquest.

Brach Hall was situated down the hill behind the gymnasium. It had the same run-down brick-and-white exterior as the other buildings, but it lacked the decorative columns and the sense of architectural frivolousness. The door to this one was attached, but unlocked.