Chapter 11
Week 4, Instructor Calendar, February 1896
With Mary’s parting words undermining her courage, Concordia hesitantly climbed the narrow back stairs to the Armstrong attic, her bedside lamp in hand. Although it was the middle of the day, the small attic windows would not provide enough light for her to make a thorough search.
And it should keep ghosts from sneaking up from behind, she thought sarcastically. Let’s be sensible, old girl. She would scare herself witless by her own fancies.
The narrow door opened easily on well-oiled hinges. The attic, though certainly gloomy, seemed to have been vigorously dusted recently, to Concordia’s surprise. Her limited experience with attics led her to expect a grimy and neglected jumble of household goods, the detritus of previous occ
