spectre-draws

I knew I was deliberately disobeying Antoinette. Though I couldn't work out why, I knew she had her reasons for wanting me to stay away from the bookstore. I knew she would be incensed when she found out I'd ignored her warning—and she would find out. She always did. But anger and frustration smothered my guilt into temporary silence, and I stomped blindly ahead, my feet finding their way of their own accord to the antiquated sign hanging over the old storefront. I turned left past the sign, wound my way through the alley adjacent to the building, made another left and arrived at the back door. With a huff that would have put a walrus