Fear is a cold, bony hand that wraps around your lungs and squeezes. It never gets easier. You just learn to take shorter breaths or suffocate.

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The following morning, I take the long way to school. My usual trek borders Thicket Grove, and those tall, twisted branches just don't feel the same anymore. Even the subtle smell of the cedar and dew feels wrong somehow. Like lighting a scented candle in a morgue.

It's cold outside. I stuff my hands in the pockets of my black coat. Dad got me this coat two years ago, just before he died. The straps pull the fabric snugly around my waist, and the extra pocket space is appreciated. The big pointy hood doesn't help with the witch rumors, but I don't care. Dad got it for me, and it's perfect.

I enter the school rotunda, and everything feels so unnervingly typical. No one even knows two kids are dead or that a monster is hunting them. I could tell them. Warn them all. I'd confirm all of their suspicions that I really am crazy. Perhaps I am. Ignorance really is bliss, because the truth is devastatingly lonely.

I feel the weight of some of their stares, but it doesn't sting as much anymore. Mallory and Trevor passed me in these halls and I never recognized their faces. I never knew either of them, but I can't shake the weight of their loss. Would I have helped Mallory if she had treated me like everyone else does?

"You get kicked out of your coven, Autumn?" Brennen, the dork with an ego, snickers from behind me. His little posse of pocket protectors stands beside him. I bet he'd run away if I just gave him a dirty look. His insults don't bother me, but maybe today I let it bother me. Maybe today I shut him up.

"Hey, Brennen," A familiar voice speaks up from beside me. "Your mom dressed you up nice today. Did you tell her it was picture day?" I turn to see Liam, the boy who sits next to me in physics class. His long blonde hair fits over his head like a helmet.

Liam walks beside me and grins. I'm not sure how to react. It's a nice gesture, Autumn. You thank people when they're nice to you.

"Thanks, I guess," I say.

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"I'm pretty sure he practices those insults in the mirror," Liam replies.

"I bet he does." I grin. He stays beside me as I head to class. "Are you walking me to class now?" I ask.

"No," he shrugs. "We're just headed to the same class. I mean, unless you want me to go a different speed."

"You're in my history class?" I've never really made it a point to get to know anyone in my classes.

"I am. Thank you for noticing," He replies sarcastically.

"I didn't, actually." Sorry, Liam. You'll need to try harder than that to woo me.

"I was—" Liam looks at me confused. "I'm sorry. You're really hard to read. Was that a joke?" He searches my face, shadowed under my hood. I can't restrain my smug grin. "It was, wasn't it?"

I speed up.

"Hood off, Miss Everly," Mr. Martin groans.

Class proceeds as dull as usual. I spend most of my time attempting to draw the creature I saw in the woods. I draw it differently every time. The details of my memory shift. It was a dark night, rainy, and my adrenaline was on overdrive. I can't remember if it had skin or fur, fangs or teeth, horns or antlers—or were those just bones poking out of it? I'm uncertain of everything I saw that night.

"Autumn," Mr. Martin calls from the front of the class. I jerk my head up. "Can you tell the class what happened to Roanoke?" He points to an old colonial map of North America. Shit. When did we jump to colonial America?

"Um," I stammer. "They vanished, didn't they?"

"Yes, they did," he replies. "Glad to see you're paying attention instead of drawing in my classroom." The class snickers.

"Their sudden exodus has become a timeless mystery," he continues. "Great for scary stories and conspiracy theories. But civilizations suddenly disappearing isn't as rare as you may think. Who can name another?"

"The Mayans," Liam answers.

"That's right. But some of you may be surprised that another colony very close to home vanished, much like the people of Roanoke." Mr. Martin slides an old illustration onto the projector. It's an old town bordering a large forest. "Greenfield was built on top of a town abandoned over a hundred years ago. You may even find remnants of their homes in the woods." The class gawks at the sudden revelation. But one part of the picture stands out to me. At the edge of the town sits a large ornate building with a tower attached to one corner. Dr. Ward's home.