Aurora’s P.O.V

I stare at the wall across from me, my breath caught somewhere between my throat and my lungs, unable to move, unable to think, unable to do anything but let the horror wash over me. My mind refuses to process what I’m seeing, but my eyes won’t look away. There, trapped inside a tall, enclosed glass case, stands a skeleton—dressed in a green dress and wearing a brown wig.

I swallow hard, my hands shaking at my sides, my heart hammering so loudly that I can ...