By the last hour of the day, I’m desperate for the comfort of my room. I want to be close to my poppa’s things. I want the weight of his soul around my neck. I think about what he might say if he were here, but I already know: Admit to your mistake. There’s nothing wrong with an apology.

I should have believed Shy and Natalie when they confronted Lennon. In the moment, I’d been so certain standing up for her was the right thing to do, but I was blind.

She’d been behind the posts. That’s why she watched people, learned their secrets. That’s why she was untouchable.

But did that also mean she took my coin and killed Lily? I can’t say, and that makes me afraid.

Instead of going to PE where I’ll have to face her, Shy, and Natalie, I head to the library. If I can’t go home, I’ll surround myself with one thing that brings me comfort—books.

The library is quiet, and only a few people turn to stare at me. I head into the stacks, searching for a place to hide and read. As I navigate the maze of shelves, I halt, heart jumping into my throat. A man sits, slumped over in the corner, head resting against his chest. He’s too pale to be asleep. The lights create a shiny spot at the center of his head where his hair has thinned. His arms lie at his sides, both palms up. He’s dressed in a blue checkered shirt and brown pants. He doesn’t have any outward injuries, but he’s fallen in such a way that it looks like he was pushed.

As I stand here, the spirit disappears and reappears inches from where I stand. Stumbling away, I stifle a scream and watch as he plucks a book from the shelf. He leafs through the pages for a moment before dropping the book, hands going to his chest, which rises and falls quickly. He stumbles back, landing against the wall. His eyes meet mine, round and full of fear. He slides to the floor, breathing fast until his head falls forward on his chest and his arms unfold to rest at his sides.

He’s dead.

I twist to flee and run straight into a body. Pushing away, I come face to face with Thane. With my heart still racing, I can’t keep from cursing.

“God! Why are you always where I don’t want you to be?”

Thane raises a dark brow. “Who pissed in your Cheerios?”

Then he seems to notice the man behind me.

“I see you found Mr. Richardson.”

“You know him?”

“He’s one of the school ghosts, but most of us forget about him because he keeps to the library. He died about ten years ago from a heart attack.”

I shiver.