Leya breathed deep, she stamped the spasm of fear beneath her in quiet. The notebook was heavy between her fingers, leather wrinkled under her hand pressed against it. She desired the attic desolate of her before person and beast could encounter its door.

She took the journal and floated to the door, hesitant hand around the doorknob so as not to squeak. She jumped at a jump because squeaking back hinges were caught in the quiet of their silent turn. She floated out and closed the door ...