“No! Eliza!” Alice attempted to cling to her, but Eliza shook off her grasping fingers.
“Would you rather leave Theresa in there alone?” Eliza asked, the wind tugging her hair out from under her hat.
Alice hugged herself, her bottom lip trembling. Eliza looked to Catherine, pleading with her eyes.
“She’s right, Alice,” Catherine said. She took Eliza’s arm and started for the chapel.
“So now you’re leaving me out here alone?” Alice wailed.
“Come with us!” Eliza hissed. Alice clasped and unclasped her hands, looking from the chapel back toward campus—gauging, it seemed, whether going inside with her friends or walking back alone was the worse of the two evils. The very idea of Alice trying to get back to Crenshaw House by herself without fainting or going into hysterics seemed impossible.
“Wait here,” Eliza said to Catherine.
The wind was growing fierce now, forcing tears from her eyes as she hastened back toward Alice. “Look at me, Alice,” Eliza demanded, taking her friend’s hands. The wind tore through the trees around them, creating a vortex of green and brown leaves.
Alice took in a shaky breath, glancing about warily as a gust pushed her forward.
“If you come inside with us, I promise to not let anything bad happen to you,” Eliza said.
“But . . . how can you promise that?” Alice asked, her bottom lip quivering.
“Because I’m your friend and I would never put you in harm’s way.” Eliza had to shout now to be heard over the whistling wind. “I would never put anyone I loved in harm’s way.”
Alice’s expression softened slightly, the creases of anxiety disappearing from her forehead. She looked at the chapel again uncertainly. The wind shoved her forward once more, and she staggered into Eliza. Eliza wrapped her arms around the girl, holding her steady.
“Come along. Theresa is waiting for us,” Eliza said.
She breathed a sigh of relief when Alice’s feet finally started moving. They rejoined Catherine, and the three of them walked with the wind at their backs. Eliza shoved open the door to the chapel, and together they tumbled inside.
“What took you so long?” Theresa asked.
Standing at the center of the aisle, between the two rows of polished oak pews, and framed by the gorgeous stained glass windows above the pulpit, Theresa held two lit candles that she had no doubt taken from the wall sconces.
“Bring the map here,” she instructed.
Eliza did. Theresa handed the candles to Catherine, then bent toward Eliza so she too could look over the map. But there was no text left to read, just simple drawings: arrows and doors and a staircase.
“The arrows seem to be pointing down the aisle and then to the left side of the chapel, where there is to be a door,” Eliza said. “And behind the door, some sort of square room.”
“Then let’s go,” Theresa said, starting in that direction.
Eliza folded the map and followed. The chapel was all creaks and wails on such a windy night. Catherine and Alice brought up the rear, and Eliza could hear Catherine whispering soothing reassurances to Alice as they moved.
Through an arched doorway at the front of the chapel and down a short hall, Theresa and Eliza came to a solid, six-panel door.
“Shall we?” Theresa asked, shadows dancing across her face.
Before Eliza could speak, Theresa had tried the brass knob, and the door swung open to reveal a small, square office. Just like in the drawing.
“Huh. No ghosts or goblins or mummies,” Theresa joked. “I’m almost disappointed.”
Alice let out a groan as Theresa and Eliza stepped over the threshold into the chamber. The walls were a modest white, and oak beams lined the ceiling. At the center of the room was a plain wooden desk, and bookcases lined all four walls. A huge cross, whittled out of what appeared to be maple, hung on the wall behind the desk.
“This is the chaplain’s office,” Alice whispered from the doorway. “We shouldn’t be trespassing.”
“Oh, Alice, hush,” Theresa said, walking behind the desk. “He’ll never even know we were here.”
“But God will know,” Alice said.