I knew very little about Agatha’s mysterious “school troubles.” But that was irrelevant. Agatha and I were totally different people. She may have fallen in with bad kids, but that didn’t mean I would.

“You learn things about people as you get to know them,” I said through my teeth. “That’s . . .” I was going to say, That’s how making friends works. But I managed to stop myself, because it seemed disrespectful. “I don’t want to go out to parties. I just want to be near kids my own age.”

“But you have Agatha,” Laura said, surprised. “She’s your age.”

We stared at each other. It was as if we were speaking different languages.

“I never got in trouble at school,” I said. “Not even detention.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all,” she said, putting her hand on my shoulder. I suppressed the urge to duck away. “I don’t mean to imply that we have any doubts about you, Margot. It’s just that it’s such a big world, and you’re very vulnerable. We’ve grown quite fond of you and we want to make sure you’re protected.”

Protected from what, exactly? Whatever their phantom fears were, wasn’t it equally valid to worry about spending the rest of my childhood deprived of proper socialization? They couldn’t cut me off from everything. What would two years of isolation do to me?

“Could we talk about this more before making a final decision?” I asked.

She gave me a pleasant smile. “No.”

There was a beat of silence, and then next to me, Agatha tipped over her water glass.

I MADE A show of lazing around the library until they left for their appointment, and then I jumped up and ran upstairs. Using Agatha’s technique, I hip-checked the door to the green wing. And then I went into the hall and I . . . stood there.

I wanted answers. I wanted to know who Lily was and why Laura never mentioned her. I wanted to know why I’d been beckoned here—even if it was only my subconscious sending for me. What did my subconscious think was so great about the green wing?

It spread before me, silent and dusty, and I walked toward the room I’d been in twice before.

Just as I came to the doorway, the door shuddered slightly.

I stopped. Looking at it, my whole body began to buzz with apprehension. Almost like the room was putting out an electrical current—one that I wanted nothing to do with. But I forced myself forward anyway. It must have been the wind. Old houses were drafty.

I crossed the threshold and stopped.