When I reached our room, the door was wide open. Ginny wasn’t there. Her winter coat hung from a hook, her scarf and gloves were on the shelf where she normally left them, and her boots were tucked under it. Her knitting basket lay on the floor, overturned, but otherwise nothing looked amiss. She couldn’t have stepped outside without her winter clothes. She had to be inside the dorm. I rushed down the hallway, hoping I’d find her in Carolyn’s room or with another of the girls. Carolyn’s door was closed and she didn’t seem to be in. I bumped into Bertha Trumbull and asked about Ginny. Bertha
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