rched on Fayth's bookshelf. It was porcelain, pale blue with gold trim, and a hand-pai

brass key into the slot

ic

licate and slow. Beneath the velvet lining was a folded piece o

o me, it wasn't an accid

riffin. He had been helping

tucked it into her pocket. If Fayth had written this, then she had

l existed, someone migh

estr

sat in silence, the final note h

han whispers in hallways

d wanted F

eaving until she

-

f Epis