At Briarwood School for Girls

“Do you believe in ghosts, Mr. Bishop?” She could feel him staring at her, wondering about her. The thing about Mr. Bishop was, he wanted to teach you something. That wasn’t always the case. Some teachers wanted to entertain or impress you, some wanted you to like them, some just wanted you to behave for an hour and move along. But Mr. Bishop believed what he said in class. He was almost too earnest. Even now, he was giving her question more consideration that it deserved. “I believe a place can be haunted,” he said, “if that’s what you mean. By the past or history or whatever. And people, too. People can be haunted. But if you mean actual spirits from the other side, then no, I don’t guess I do.” Lenore wiggled her toes inside her shoes. “Why do you ask?” he said. “Oh, you know the stories about Thornton Hall.” Mr. Bishop smiled. “Does this mean you’ve had a run in with Elizabeth Archer?” “I’m pregnant,” Lenore said. She hadn’t meant to tell him. She felt as startled by her revelation as Mr. Bishop looked and she had the strange sensation the she might suddenly float up off the ground, her heels lifting out of the snow and then her toes and she imagined gazing down on Mr. Bishop and his dog, a hovering ghost of herself.