"Why are we doing this?" Millie whispered to Petra as they crept down the main staircase, cloaked in darkness. Petra had her torch in hand, but kept it low, its beam tucked into the folds of her nightdress and robe.

"Because it's fun," Petra whispered back, trying to stifle her giggles as she prodded at Millie's side. "And making mischief together is a good way to strengthen a friendship."

Millie wasn't sure if that was true, but she wasn't going to argue. If Petra wanted to be her friend, then she was willing to do anything. Well, almost anything. Creeping around Wickford in the dead of night was pushing her limit, but still she followed along as Petra led them down the steps, towards the foyer, and then into the office.

Bathed in cold moonlight, all greys and blues and shadows, the office looked unearthly. Millie couldn't help but feel like something was waiting for them in the darkness, ready to leap upon them. She shivered and hung back as Petra strode inside, crossing the room and heading for the filing cabinets behind the secretary's desk.

"What are you doing?" Millie asked.

Petra aimed her torch beam at Millie, who blinked against the brightness. She raised her hand to block it.

"Looking for my file," Petra said as if it was obvious.

"Why?"

Petra pulled the light back to the drawers. "Come on, haven't you ever wondered what the teachers write about you in their private notes?"

"Not really," Millie grumbled.

Petra wasn't listening. She had found the drawer marked 'Student Records, D'—for Downey, Millie presumed. She pried it open, and the rusty drawer let out a low creak as it slid out. Petra began to flick through the files inside.

"Why do I get the sense," Petra began, glancing at Millie as she lingered, awkward, by the door, "that if we found your file, that it would be full of things like, 'Mildred is always a pleasure to have in class' and other empty praises?"

Millie felt her face go hot and was glad that Petra's torch wasn't turned on her so she couldn't see the blush. "So? What if it does?"

Truth was, though her experience at Wickford had been bumpy at best, she had done very well in school back in London. Petra was right—her file probably would contain nothing but compliments and praise. And usually, she would be proud of it.

"I knew it," Petra sighed. "You're a goody-two-shoes. How disappointing."

"I-Is it really?" Millie asked. Her chest got tight. She didn't want to disappoint Petra.

Petra just shook her head.

"I'm just teasing, Millie. If anything, it's better—all the better to corrupt." She stopped thumbing through the files and grinned at her. When she turned back to the files, the grin went wider. "Here we go!"

She pulled out a file and held it aloft as if it were some great prize.

Millie didn't say anything. She didn't want to poke any more holes in Petra's fun, so she let Petra dig into her file. Instead, she glanced around the room just for something to do. Her gaze fell on the wall of mail cubbies. As was her habit, she scanned them, searching for something, anything. Her hopes were not high, but—

Her eyes went wide as they fell on her labelled cubby.

There was a letter for her.

Heart racing, Millie snatched it from the cubby and turned it over to inspect it. Even though she held it in her hand, and felt its rough paper edges, she could hardly believe it was real. She trembled as she read the address, worried it might've been some mistake, a letter misfiled into the wrong cubby.

But it wasn't a mistake. It was for her. Her name was clearly written on the front. And in the upper corner...

O. Cunningham
St Thomas Hospital

It was from her sister.

Millie's heart soared—

"Shh!" Petra hissed, though Millie hadn't said anything.

But Millie did as she said and went silent. The two girls hardly breathed as they listened hard to the deep night.

Footsteps echoed down the hall.

"Shit!" Petra muttered.

As Petra hurried to slot her file away again, Millie stuffed the letter into her pocket. Petra tried to shut the drawer as quietly as she could, but as it closed, it let out the softest clang.

In the silence of the night, it might as well have been a slamming door.

The footsteps in the hall came to a stop. Whoever was there, they had heard the noise. The girls held their breath, hoping they'd dismiss it and continue on...

But when the footsteps started up again, they were headed their way.

"Double shit!" Petra grumbled. She dodged around the secretary's desk and grabbed Millie's hand, dragging her off down the hall that led to the private offices. At the far end was a door that Millie was pretty sure led to the library. Petra ran straight for it.

Behind them, the patroller had reached the office. A beam of light flashed through the room.

"Who's there?"

It had to be a teacher or a nun, though Millie couldn't tell which. In the echoing halls, the voice almost sounded distorted.

"You didn't tell me that they patrolled the halls!" Petra grumbled as they scrambled down the hall.

"I told you it was forbidden!" Millie muttered back. She figured it was implied.

Petra ignored her. They had reached the door at the end of the hall. Petra grabbed the handle and twisted. Mercifully, it gave, and the door opened without a sound. They managed to slip through before whoever was there saw them.

Once in the library, Petra ran like she knew exactly where to go. She pulled Millie towards one of the soaring windows that lined the one wall, framed by thick, velvet curtains. Petra pulled the curtains aside and pushed Millie behind them before shoving in next to her. The curtains were saturated with dust and made Millie's nose itch, but they were thick and good for cover. She hoped it would be enough to conceal them.

The footsteps followed them into the library. Through a gap in the fabric, Millie watched as the beam of the torch scanned the room. A shadowed figure walked behind it, muttering as they went.

Beside her, Petra trembled. Millie wondered if she was really so frightened, but saw that Petra was rubbing feverishly at her nose. Millie's heart gave a jolt. No—

Petra sneezed. She did her best to suppress it, but it did little good.

The figure stopped, then turned. The torch beam turned towards them, creeping along the floor, closing in on the window. Millie and Petra clung close together, holding their breath.

The light inched closer... then stopped.

There was a sigh. "This nonsense will be the death of me."

The flashlight angled away, and the footsteps retreated, back out into the hall until they could no longer be heard.

Millie let out her breath. Beside her, Petra was gasping and rubbing at her nose. With the panic gone, Millie let the back of her head rest against the cool glass of the window. She angled her head, her gaze turning outwards, beyond the glass.

Beside her, Petra peeked out from the curtain.

She tugged on Millie's sleeve. "Come on, they're gone. Now's our chance—"

But beyond the window, something had caught Millie's eye.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing. Her finger tapped against the glass.

Petra tugged again on Millie's arm. "Nothing that matters, come on—"

"No, look. There are lights."

Petra finally turned to look.

Out the window, in the distance, a line of lights led up the path to the chapel. The chapel itself was lit up from within, the light flickering as if it were alive. In the depth of the night, it looked ominous.

"Are those the nuns?" Millie asked, squinting. It was dark, but you could see their pure white robes as they made their way up the chapel path.

"I thought we weren't allowed to turn on the lights," Petra grumbled, "because the Germans might spot us during flyovers."

"What're they doing out so late?" Millie wondered.

"They're nuns, and it's a church. It must be midnight mass or something." Petra tugged again, sounding annoyed. "Come on. We've got to go now, or we'll lose our chance!"

Millie reluctantly tore her eyes away from the procession and went with Petra, hurrying into the night.

Petra and Millie slipped inside their room, locked the door behind them, and pressed their backs to it. Millie was panting, her heart racing as the cold sting of fear ebbed from her heart. Next to her, Petra was breathing hard, her head hung low. Then her laboured breathing changed, shifting pitch as they turned into giggles.

For a moment, Millie just stared at her roommate like she had gone mad. But then her lips began to twitch, and she began to laugh, too. Petra's laughter was infectious. They fell together, sliding down to the floor, wheezing as they tried to keep their laughter quiet.

"That was a close one!" Petra managed between giggles. "A real adventure!"

"I was really worried for a second there," Millie agreed, fighting hiccups.

"But we made it," Petra sighed, grinning as she turned to Millie. "I'm so glad you were chosen as my roommate."

Millie's laughter died. Her eyes went wide. "You are?"

"I am," Petra assured her. "This place would've been so boring without a friend."

Millie sat there, quiet for a moment. Then she smiled back.

"It was."