No one was out in the hall as Ruby stole through it, Effie close on her heels. Her friend was worried -- anyone could see that -- but not so worried that she would force Ruby to stay in bed or send for the doctor.

Maybe she thought Ruby wouldn’t have stayed anyway. It was very likely true. Now that Ruby had heard Mina’s voice, nothing could keep her still. She had to find out what the ghost wanted her to know.

“Ruby?” Effie called. “Ruby, are you certain of this?”

She wasn’t, not in the least, but she couldn’t tell Effie that. She wanted her friend to maintain some faith in her, and if she admitted to uncertainty, that faith would vanish like snow in the sun. She couldn’t let that happen. If she lost that, she would truly have nothing left. Whatever concern Mlle. Bellerose might have shown for her was no more than she would have for any other student. Ruby had to believe that, or she would lose herself in hope and truly go mad.

She didn’t have Mlle. Bellerose. She didn’t have her brother. She only had Effie, and if she lost her, she would lose everything. At that point, she might as well give up and die.

“Ruby?”

She ran faster, trying to escape her own thoughts. “I’m certain,” she said. “Trust me.”

There was no answer. She hoped that was because Effie was too out of breath to say anything at all.

Ruby led Effie through the hall and outside. The air was bitterly cold against her toes, and she could feel it rising up through the skirt of her nightgown against her legs. She shivered, and behind her Effie gasped as the cold struck her skin.

“Ruby…”

“You can go back if you want to,” Ruby said as she pressed on. “I won’t blame you.”

That was a lie, and by now, they both knew it. Still, Ruby thought she heard Effie falter a bit before carrying on.

It was only her imagination, though. Effie would always stay right behind her. Ruby had to believe that.

There was a great deal she had to believe.

She ran on from Pendleton’s, down to the school cemetery, and started darting between the headstones. She knew exactly the one she was looking for and hardly had to look at the names, though she caught a few out of the corner of her eye.

Lucy Parker.

Isadora Lovett.

Georgia Baines.

“Ruby, what are we doing here?” Effie called, her voice rising almost to a whine.

Ruby gritted her teeth. “You’ll see soon. I promise.”

“It’s cold.”

“I know.”

“If anyone catches us out here…”

“We’ll say it’s my fault.”

“Ruby!”

She whirled to look at Effie, who stood beside the mossy statue of an angel. The angel was what Ruby looked at first; she must have been modeled on a student, for she couldn’t have been any more than twelve and had that look particular to Pendleton girls: a certain air of defiant holiness, as though they had been molded by the hand of some great sculptor and told their very pride depended on maintaining the shape they were pressed into.

Effie had that look now, albeit with much more pouting and shivering than the angel. She hadn’t grabbed a coat, and somehow that seemed holier than anything the angel could have done.

Somehow? There could be no doubt about this. Effie was better than any angel. Ruby pulled off her coat and tossed it to Effie, who caught it fumblingly. “What are you doing?” Effie asked, holding it up as though unsure of what it was.

“You’re cold,” Ruby said.

“You’ll be colder,” Effie said, striding forward. Ruby leapt back, deftly avoiding the outstretched coat. “You’ve been ill. You still need to recover.”

From the look on Effie’s face, she thought Ruby must be having some sort of feverish relapse, or her illness hadn’t faded at all. Ruby supposed she had to admit she felt a bit feverish, but it was likely only because of the cold. Her coat had been off for only a few seconds, and already she was shivering.

She would have to tell her story quickly, both to avoid the chill and to avoid getting in trouble.

Right. That was what Effie was concerned about. Ruby held out her hand, but when Effie reached out to take it, Ruby shook her head and stepped forward, taking Effie’s hand and holding it tightly. “I won’t let you get into any trouble,” she said. “I swear on my life. I’ll swear on anything you like. Just please come with me.”

“I can’t exactly leave you here,” Effie huffed, but her face softened a moment later and she squeezed Ruby’s hand. “Show me what you wanted me to see. Then we can come up with some excuse if we’re caught. But we won’t be caught. We’re far too clever for that.”

Ruby could have kissed her right then. She rocked forward on her toes, tempted to press her lips against Effie’s cheek, but stopped herself, pulling back. Effie knew how she felt about Mlle. Bellerose, and even if everyone knew some girl gone on a teacher, it still might make things different between the two of them. You weren’t supposed to give in to sparks like that. Effie might think…

Ruby didn’t want to know what Effie might think. She pulled her hand from her friend’s and hurried on through the cemetery, trying to ignore how the cold pricked and stung the soles of her feet. However miserable she was, Effie must be feeling worse. She hadn’t the sense of purpose that pushed Ruby on. She had, if anything at all, a sense of loyalty, and Ruby didn’t know whether that might be enough.

“Here we are,” Ruby said, stopping beside a tombstone. It looked just like all the others, and when Effie looked confused, Ruby knelt and brushed moss away from the name.

Wilhelmina Blake.

Effie mouthed the name, frowning, but then her eyes widened. “Ruby, you can’t mean…”

“This is her grave,” Ruby said, heart racing. “She brought me here once. I’d never have been able to find it if she hadn’t shown me.”

Effie remained still, staring at the grave, and Ruby heard a soft voice whispering in her ear.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.