Page 24 of A Ballad of Phantoms and Hope
Godless men don’t pray, not even for their sons.
The courtyard and field beyond have never looked greener. The cloud cover is low, pressed against the evergreens in the distance and in the branches of the forest. The stones of Harlow are slick and glossy. Moss and fresh blooms add color to the institute,though I’m not quite sure it reaches all the way inside the music room today.
I hold my arms at the elbows, firmly against my chest as I peer around the room. I refuse to admit that I’m still uneasy about ghosts. Just because you’ve become one doesn’t make the unknown any less frightening.
“What did the other phantoms say about this room that made them suspicious?” Ophelia eagerly asks. Her hair is tied back into a ponytail, a few curly purple strands line her face. She turns to glance at me and shoots me a ridiculous grin. “Oh, come on, scaredy-cat.”
I glower but lower my arms so I don’t look so guarded.
It took her a few hours to decompress after the group session. But now she’s back to her normal self, or she’s just really good at pretending.
“Are you sure you want to hear them? They’re quite frightening,” I say darkly. Curiosity blooms across her features.
“Yes, tell me.”
“I’ll warn you, you’ll be too scared to sleep alone.”
She laughs and plops down on the floral print sofa in the center of the room. “Try me,” she dares and pats the spot beside her.
I grin and take the seat. Ophelia pulls her legs up and ignores the fact that she’s in a dress. It takes great focus to keep my eyes from straying from her face.
“Well? Go on,” she urges me.
I clear my throat. “As many as fifteen current residents of Harlow Sanctum have claimed to have heard or seen odd and frightening things in this very room.” I use my storytelling voice and regardless of her efforts, the corners of her lips pull up at the ends. “Sometimes it’s a hushed cry in the cover of night, other times a slam on the keys of the piano. One claimed to see a man running from one end of the room to the other in madness. Butit’s the sound of the door creaking open all throughout the night that most have heard, the pitter-patter of cold lifeless feet across the corridors and always,alwaysleading back to this room.”
Ophelia’s eyes are wide with attention and I don’t miss her shallow gulp.
“What do you think? Is there a phantom trying to stir the pot here?”
She looks around warily as if she’s now aware of the dimness of the room. The rain that ominously ticks against the window in rhythmic patterns. Her eyes draw back to me and I crack a wide grin.
“Who’s the scaredy-cat now?” I taunt her.
Her laughter is instant and she leans forward and pushes me back. I follow the motion, letting my body fall backward onto the sofa. My baseball cap falls off the edge. I stare at the ceiling and chuckle with her.
Ophelia’s hands land on either side of my head as she moves over me. Her body doesn’t touch mine but she’s so close that the heat rolls off her skin and mixes with mine.
“I think you made the entire thing up just to freak me out,” she says surely.
My lip twitches. IwishI were making it up.
“Sorry, Miss Rosin, I’m afraid I’m not,” I say as I lean up on my elbows. She sits back on her haunches, I rise with her and am not aloof to our shoulders touching.
We face the large bay windows looking toward the mountains and thick line of trees, clouds growing angry with the promise of rain. I inhale and catch her scent of roses again. It’s subtle, bare.
“Miss Rosin was my asshole stepmother. Call me Ophelia,” she tuts, and I can hear the ire in her tone. Though the glance she shoots me is playful and teasing.
I force my eyes back to the forest and clouds, not looking away from the window as I reply, “Okay. Ophelia it is.”
A pause.
“Or, rose. I… don’t mind being called a rose if you prefer nicknames.” There’s a vulnerability in her tone. I turn my attention to her, looking so small beside me.
Her eyes trail up to meet mine and neither of us speaks. Our cheeks are both flushed and before I can open my mouth to say anything, the floorboards behind the sofa creak.
Both of our heads snap back. The air is colder than it was a second ago, but there’s nobody there.
We look at each other and both stand as if on cue and walk straight out of the room. The second we’re in the hallway, Ophelia bursts into laughter and scares the shit out of me. She takes off running down the hall toward the dorm wing and I hurry to follow her.
