“I can’t imagine growing up in a house like this,” I said. “It seems like there’s so much history. My family’s house was built in like 2008. It was two stories, and halfway up the stairs was a window seat with built-in bookshelves around it. I used to sit there and read. Rainy days were the best. There was a little lamp on the wall with a ceramic goose head for a shade. My mom got it at a flea market in California. She was obsessed with flea markets. There were cute things like that all over the house.”

I noticed that Blue Bunny, who’d been leaning on the pillow next to her, had tumbled over and landed on his face, so I sat him up before returning to my work, folding sweaters and hanging pants.

The minutes ticked by, and Agatha’s silent presence started to feel less intimidating once I came to the conclusion that she really, truly didn’t care whether I was a human or a feather duster, whether I hung up clothes or danced the cha-cha, spoke to her or recited epic poetry aloud.

Blue Bunny had fallen over again, so I set him back up.

Without moving her gaze from the closet door, Agatha reached over and swatted him down.

“Hey,” I said, grabbing him and holding him to my chest, my heart pounding. “Why’d you do that?”

She didn’t answer.

“Because I hate bunnies, Margot,” I said in a high-pitched voice. “Bunnies are the worst.”

“Well,” I said to Agatha, setting Blue Bunny up on the dresser, “he’s my only friend. So you’ll have to learn to like him.”

She slapped him down again.

“Agatha,” I snapped. “Quit it!”

Her shoulders stiffened.

“Why did you do that?” I demanded.

No answer.

“Also, why were you out of bed last night?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

Agatha’s eyes meandered up to mine, and deep behind their glassy surface, I imagined that she was thinking: Why were you?

I felt slightly ashamed for losing my patience. I left the bunny as he was and got back to work.

After a while, Laura came in, her mood much improved now that the trial hour was over. When she asked how it had gone, I was able to give her a favorable update (not mentioning the stuffed bunny shenanigans), and she smiled approvingly. Checkmark, GOOD ORPHAN.

After she led Agatha out of the room, I sat down on the edge of the mattress, feeling suddenly exhausted, like I’d passed a huge, important exam by two measly points.

Now what? I could go down to the library. Or take a nap. It was only 10:30, which meant there were two hours until lunch. And after lunch, a whole long afternoon before dinner.

I flopped back against the pillow with Blue Bunny on my chest.