The hiss of a raspy breath woke Timmy, yanking him from sleep. The school librarian stood over his bed, her white hair a ghostly halo in the moonlight. He shivered as she came closer, her milky eyes cold.
“Shh, boy.” Her papery lips pursed, displeased. “Why don’t you tell me where those overdue books are?”
Timmy gulped. “I lost them.”
“That’s what I feared.” Her bony hand locked around his wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. As she pressed his palm to the nightstand, she drew a sharp silver blade from her sleeve. “A finger for each book seems fair.”