There was a ghost in the cafeteria again.
Cara stopped dead, shoulders stiffening, fingers tightening on her tray. Her water bottle bounced onto the floor, but she paid it no mind, focused on tracking the silver glow of the specter from the corner of her eye.
Ghosts always got more troublesome this time of year. Last Halloween, a spirit of a teacher from the 1960s, still seething at being fired from Autumn Falls High School, had decided to enact his belated revenge by releasing a horde or rats into the kitchen. Not that Cara had minded the plan itself – when they reopened the cafeteria after a deep clean, the perpetual sour smell of pickles had finally dissipated – it was just the fact that when you saw the dead lurking around, it always meant more trouble for the living.