We found George in the library, he was slouched in an old, leather armchair, skimming through a thick tome. When we came in he stood up, and left the book on a side table.

"You ready?" Lockwood asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be." He said, "Still don't understand why we couldn't have done this on a night when it's not raining."

"Oh we'll be fine, a little rain never hurt anybody. Come on." We followed him up a flight a flight of stairs, then around corner.

"This is where the older students live." George whispered to me, "Technically we're not supposed to be up here."

"By technically," I whispered back, "you mean actually?"

"Something like that." We climbed up another staircase, and snuck down a long hallway. We turned left, then Lockwood stopped so abruptly I ran into him.

"Sorry, Luce." He said. I took note of the nickname, but chose not to remark upon it. "We're here!" Here, was a large window. It had a pair of shutters, and a big sill on the outside. Lockwood leaned forward, and began working on the clasp that kept the panes shut. He had some trouble, but eventually got it unlocked. He pulled the panes inward, then pushed the shutters outward. A gust of cold, humid air came in. The rain had stopped.

Lockwood climbed up onto the sill and smiled at us. His teeth seemed to glow in the dark,

"Alright, once I go up wait one minute, then George you come up. Lucy, you're in charge of shutting the window, okay?"

"Sure." I said. Lockwood stood up, so we could only see his too tight trousers, then those too vanished. I counted to sixty in my head, at about seventy-three George followed him. I waited for sixty seconds, then too climbed onto the sill.

It was wide, and I had enough room. What worried me was the fact that it was still a little wet. I tried not to look down. I shut the window, and stood up cautiously, keeping one and on the stone wall for balance. When I looked up I could see the overhang of the roof. If I stretched up I could reach the edge. Lockwood's face leaned over me, and held out his hands. I grabbed them, and together we managed to haul me onto the roof. I now understood why he went first, neither me, nor George would've been able to get up here on our own.

The roof was a big slanted affair, it was slippery, and we clung to the shingles tightly to keep from sliding off the edge. Lockwood began to shuffle towards the nearest tower. I followed, and George was close behind me. Just past the tower, the roof stopped, and for a moment, I thought I saw something plunge down over the edge. I made my way to the edge, and peered down. I saw nothing besides the ground, so very far away.

"Lucy, what are you doing?" George hissed, "Come on."

"Sorry." I whispered back, and focused my attention on the task at hand. Lockwood had reached the base of the tower, and was fingering some of the bricks as if he was thinking of climbing.

"So," Lockwood began, "George, did you find out how to get in from here?" He nodded, and pushed his glasses up,

"Yes, there should beー"

"Hold up." I said, "I never said I was going in there, the roof? Yes. The tower, No."

"Why?" George asked snidely, "Are you scared?" I bristled,

"No. I'll come, how do we get up?"

"Lucy," Lockwood said, "You don't haveー" I shot him a look, and he fell silent.

"There should be a ladder on the west side, underneath the window." George said.

"The same window the Chinese kid jumped out of?" I asked, thinking of the thing I had seen falling over the edge.

"Well that's foreboding," Lockwood said, "Let's go!" We crawled over the apex of the roof, until Lockwood found the ladder. He climbed up first, then George, I came last. There was a halt in operations while Lockwood figured out how to open the window from the outside. I still don't know how he did it. When we resumed our quest the wind had picked up a little, I brushed my hair out of my face, and reached the top of the ladder. I clambered in the window, and looked around.

There was just enough light to see by, enough to send our shadows stretching towards to other side of the room. We were standing in a circular space, completely empty, other than the puddles our wet shoes were now creating. There was another window directly across us, and a wooden trapdoor in the floor. Above us there were some beams, supporting the conical ceiling. One of the beams has something on it, a corner of something wooden was poking out from the edge of it.

"Hey Lockwood," I said, thinking he could get it down if he jumped. Lockwood was too busy looking disappointed.

"Well that's anticlimactic." He complained. George wandered behind me, and began inspecting the other window, the one opposite ours. I turned back to Lockwood.

"So Lockwood, do you think you couldー"

"Why would you do that?" I whirled around in annoyance.

"Really George, can't you let me finish my sentence?" George looked up from the window he was inspecting, his face was a mask of puzzlement.

"I didn't say anything."

"You did too."

"Did not."

"Anyway," Lockwood said sternly, "What were you saying Lucy?"

"Oh I was just wondering if you could reach that thing up there." I pointed. "Butー"

"I never did anything to you, did I?" I spun around. There was nobody there. This time George looked attentive.

"I heard that." He whispered.

Suddenly the peaceful attic seemed very uninviting. Suddenly I could see all the dark pockets of shadow near the roof. Suddenly I felt very vulnerable, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to leave the place and never come back.

"You guys are just being jumpy since we're not supposed to be here." Lockwood said reassuringly, "We'll leave, just let me get this thing up here." He reached up towards the thing sticking out over our heads. He couldn't quite reach it, and gave a little hop. When he got closer to the object, my feeling of dread deepened. There was a bad taste in my mouth.

"Lockwood, it doesn't matter, let's go." I (almost) pleaded. George came up next to me, and backed me up,

"Yeah, this place is giving me the creeps." He agreed.

"One second." He said, with a touch of annoyance, "I'd almost got it that time." He jumped again, and once again the higher he got the more uneasy I felt. Only this time he got it.

As it fell I saw it was a plain wooden box, I also saw the lid fall off. All of us saw what fell out onto the floor. I couldn't move, I could barely breathe. Someone screamed, I thought it was George, but couldn't tell. I felt my stomach go into my throat, and Lockwood had stepped away hurriedly.

Because lying on the stone brick floor were two fingers. Human fingers. I won't go into detail here, but I will say that the sight wasn't pleasant. We didn't have much time to goggle at them. Suddenly, I felt very sad, very sad, and very lonely.

"Do you see that?" Lockwood whisper-yelled at us. "The kid by the window." His voice seemed far away, and unimportant, even so I turned to look at the window. I saw something there, but I couldn't make it out.

A fresh wave of hopelessness drowned my thoughts out. Through the storm of negative emotions I could hear one voice clearly,

"I'm sorry mom, dad."

"Lucy? What are you sorry for?" It was George, I didn't look at him,

"I just can't take it anymore." I moved towards the window slowly. George was shouting something, but it didn't matter, because it would be over soon.

Something grabbed my wrist, and hauled me back. I was turned around roughly, and found myself staring into Lockwoods eyes.

"Lucy. Don't touch it." I blinked. And suddenly I realized what I had been about to do. I almost hyperventilated.

"I.. I almost," I stuttered, "I almost…" Lockwood cupped my face in his hands, and looked at me sternly,

"I know Luce. Now let's get out of here." He was right. With some difficulty, I pulled myself together and found my footing.

The thing by the window had settled on the shape of a boy about my age. He was Asian, with big dark eyes, and short black hair. He was missing two fingers on his left hand. He was also crying.

As I watched he turned around, and stepped towards the window. Then he jumped. All the sudden, all the pressure I felt vanished. My ears popped, the bad taste in my mouth disappeared, and all of us breathed sighs of relief. We just stood there, I think we were in shock. Lockwood had gone a funny gray color, and George was shaking slightly.

I snapped out of it first,

"What was that?" I asked roughly. "I almost died!" I added angrily. I didn't know what I was angry about, maybe the fact that I had almost committed suicide.

"George," Lockwood said quietly, "do you have a picture of Victor Chen?" All at once we turned to look at the fingers on the floor. I looked away almost as soon as I had seen them.

"Downstairs." He said. "Let's go back." Lockwood nodded slowly, then seemed to come back to himself.

"Right! Off we go, some formation as last time, me, George, Lucy." Together we shambled across the roof and down onto the window sill. Lockwood pushed the window open, and George went down. Before I followed them, I looked back at the tower. In the dark, I thought I saw something tumble from the window. Last time I saw that I had dismissed it as nerves, now I wasn't so sure.

Once we were all inside, Lockwood pulled the shutters closed, and locked the window again.

"Now," He said, "We're going to go to one of our bedrooms, and discuss what we just saw. Any objections?"

"My room is off limits." George said, "I still haven't cleaned up after, after the incident." Lockwood looked annoyed,

"Really George, still? Fine, we'll use my room, off we go!" I followed them through the cold, empty halls of Fittes Academy. A few times I thought I heard whispers following us, but when I turned around there was nothing there.

Suddenly Lockwood stopped. This time George ran into him. I looked up into the face of a stern looking man, glaring down at us. Even after our harrowing experience, Lockwood wasn't fazed. He smiled his best smile, and spoke politely,

"Good evening, Mr Rotwell."