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Weekly Contest #64
The secondhand of the clock echoed through the halls of Morgan Manor. Maggie tossed a tennis ball in the air for what seemed to be an eternity as she lay on her bed. A glimpse of movement dashed past her door. The tennis ball came crashing down onto her face. Tossing it aside, she crept from her bed to the doorway and peeked around the frame. Nothing. The air in the hall was much colder than in her bedroom, sending a chill down her spine. Just then a hand rested on Maggie’s shoulder. “Easy there. I’ve been calling you, dinner is rea...
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