I veered across the landing and hit the next set of stairs.

The custodian limped up the flight below, fingers clutching the railing, melted fingers, bone peeking through —

I barreled through the doors and raced along the main hall.

"Listen to me, you selfish brat. All 1 want is five minutes —"

I swerved into the nearest empty classroom and slammed the door. As I backed into the center of the room, the custodian stepped through the door. Right through it. That awful melted face was gone, and he was normal again.

"Is that better? Now will you stop screaming and talk to —"

I darted to the window and started looking for a way to open it, then saw how far down it was. At least thirty feet . . . onto pavement.

"Chloe!"

The door flew open. It was the vice principal, Ms. Waugh, with my math teacher, Mr. Travis, and a music teacher whose name I couldn't remember. Seeing me at the window, Ms. Waugh threw out her arms, blocking the two men.

"Chloe?" she said, voice low. "Honey, you need to step away from that window."

"I was just —"

"Chloe . . ."

Confused, I glanced back toward the window.

Mr. Travis shot past Ms. Waugh and tackled me. As we hit the floor, the air flew out of my lungs. Scrambling off, he accidentally kneed me in the stomach. I fell back, doubled over, wheezing.

I opened my eyes to see the custodian standing over me. I screamed and tried to get up, but Mr. Travis and the music teacher held me down while Ms. Waugh babbled into a cell phone.

The custodian leaned through Mr. Travis. "Now will you talk to me, girl? Can't get away."

I thrashed, kicking at the custodian, trying to pull away from the teachers. They only held me tighter. I vaguely heard Ms. Waugh calling that help was on the way. The custodian pushed his face into mine and it changed to that horrible melted mask, so close I was staring into his one bulging eye, almost out of its socket.