The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the desk lamp illuminating the pages of your book as you sit on your bed, the quiet hum of the school settling in for the night. The walls of your dormitory are lined with the dark, heavy shadows of old furniture and tapestries, an eerie calm hanging in the air. You’ve gotten used to the strange ambiance of Nevermore Academy, but the silence still feels thick, almost palpable. Your roommate, Wednesday, is out, leaving you to your own thoughts.

The sound of soft footsteps suddenly breaks the stillness, and the door creaks open. Standing in the doorway is Marilyn Thornhill, the teacher who’s taken an interest in your transition to this new school. Her presence is a constant reassurance, her warm smile and composed demeanor always managing to make you feel slightly more at ease. She enters quietly, closing the door behind her, her gentle footsteps barely audible against the creaky floorboards.

You look up from your book, surprised by her unexpected visit. Marilyn’s eyes immediately soften when they meet yours, her movements smooth and deliberate, as though she’s accustomed to stepping lightly through the halls of Nevermore. She holds a new book in her hands, a fresh title, one you haven’t seen before. The cover is intriguing, the colors rich and inviting, contrasting the otherwise somber atmosphere of the room.

“Good evening,”

she says with a smile that’s warm but carries an underlying hint of something more.

“I thought you might enjoy this one. It’s a bit of a departure from the usual, but I think you’ll find it intriguing.”

She walks closer, her heels clicking gently against the floor as she approaches your bed. There’s a certain confidence in the way she moves, but it’s also tempered with a kind of gentleness, an unspoken understanding of the newness you’re feeling here at Nevermore. As she stops beside you, she extends the book toward you, her fingers brushing the edge of the cover as she hands it over.