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Bits and pieces. That’s all she got. Fragments. Shadows. And sometimes, she’d learned bitterly? Getting half a story from someone’s mind was worse than nothing at all.

A minute later she was in the conservatory, standing in front of an elaborate glass trophy case. Tiny crystal birds filled the first two shelves. Melody saw a beautiful vintage music box — she knew it from the treble-clef on its front, and because she owned a similar one herself. Her father, a violinist, had given it to her on her eighth birthday. He’d given her her name, too.

Focus.

Above, on the higher shelves, she saw more gold and silver trinkets. There was a small spoon collection. An antique dueling pistol, set in a wooden stand. Melody stood on her tiptoes, straining to see. She saw a drinking — no, a powder — horn. An engraved flask. A scrolling filigree box with the cameo of a woman on the front. It was too small to hold the egg though, she decided.

SKRIIIIIIT!

Melody’s heart leapt into her throat. Something moved. Something in the shadows, on the other side of the room.

She recoiled immediately, crouching down and curling into a ball. She felt vulnerable and naked in only her underwear. She was torn immediately between hoping she wouldn’t be seen, and wanting to run as fast as she could.

For now, she stayed put.

SKRIIIIIIT!

It was a shifting noise. A dragging sound. Like someone scraping a dried branch against a stone floor.

Get out of here! her mind screamed. Go!

She was up and out, moving in one fluid motion. At the base of the staircase she turned to look back. It was horrible, staring into the darkness of the previous doorway. Wanting but not wanting to see what might come through it…

SKRIIIIIIT! SKRIIIIIIT!

She took the stairs two at a time. And then she was back, back in the hallway. Back in her hallway, in front of the door to her room. Melody grabbed the knob. Turned it…

But the knob didn’t move.

The key!

She’d forgotten to take it with her! I didn’t even occur to her that the door might lock behind her.

Another noise reached her ears. This time, it was more of a bump. A thump. A double-thump…

Someone — or something — was coming up the stairs.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit…

Melody ran past the next door and stopped at the second one. How many doors down was Eric’s room? Two? Three? She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember. Tried the knob gently, but it didn’t move.

This is it. It’s gotta be it.

She curled her knuckles against the door. Just before knocking, she heard another sound — this one from the other side.

The sound of a man weeping.

All the blood in her veins went to ice. The long, wracking sobs on the other side of the door were borderline hysterical. They came with an intermittent wailing that sent shivers down Melody’s spine.

Not this door…

The thumping sound ended. Whatever was coming had finished climbing the staircase…

Melody turned away, scrambling frantically over to the next door. But before she could do anything, her entire body froze again.

There was man at the other end of the hall.

He was seated. Motionless. Sitting and just staring at her. Staring straight at her, but not really seeing her.