Sometimes By Moonlight by Heather Davis Read Free Book Online

little, letting in the glow of the moonlight.
     
    I listened for the scratching sound I’d heard a minute before, but it was gone. Maybe I’d just imagined it, or maybe it was one of the noises from the forest that had seemed to become louder over the last few weeks. The Alps really were coming alive with the sound of…something. I let the curtain fall back into place, and then I slid my legs back inside my covers and willed my eyes to close.
     
    Instead, I lay there, blinking at the ceiling. And then my stomach started to growl. All I could think about were the forbidden gingersnaps. I’d barely touched the mushy spaetzle and boiled cabbage dinner they’d tried to feed us that evening. And, down in the kitchen, the cookies were just hanging out, waiting to be consumed by our privileged teachers whenever they wanted. It was so unfair.
     
    With a guilty glance toward Marie-Rose, I slipped out of bed again. Quietly, I threw on yoga pants and pulled a hoodie on over my sleep shirt. The only socks in reach were my fuzzy microfiber ones, but they’d do for Operation: Covert Cookie. My gurgling stomach was totally overruling Madame LaCroix and her threats. I couldn’t see her calling anyone’s parents over a stolen cookie or two, even if I got caught. Anyway, Madame and the other staff occupied the east wing of the building, leaving Lemmon the only teacher monitoring this floor of the dorm. No video chat sounds were coming from her room. I hovered near the door, hearing only her snoring. It reminded me of my dad’s. It was totally the kind of heavy-duty snoring you could ease out of the house to.
     
    As I tiptoed past her door, that old feeling of sneakily won freedom coursed through my veins. Back at my house in Beverly Hills, I had found it pretty easy to slip outside without anyone knowing. It had been especially sweet when Honeybun had been the only one home. In a way, maybe I had been trying to underscore to my dad that she was never going to be a suitable parent. Or maybe I’d just liked the challenge of trying to get away with something, at least for a little while.
     
    In my slippery socks I zipped toward the front stairs, almost crashing into the balustrade. Must calm down . I used the hand railing and forced myself to go step by step, Duke Steinfelder gazing sternly down at me the whole way. I was sure no one ever kept cookies from him when this had been his castle.
     
    I covered the short distance to the kitchen in a few long glides on my microfiber socks, skating across the worn wooden floor. As I rounded the corner to the kitchen, the scent of the gingersnaps seemed to be wafting in the air, calling me. That was the extent of my hunger, that it could smell cookies at one hundred paces.
     
    I eased through the swinging doors ahead of me. Except for the sound of a fan on somewhere, the kitchen was silent. Metal counters that looked more like fixtures from a morgue ran the length of the room and an enormous blackened stove dominated the back wall. Over by the sink area, long windows overlooked the poorly lit side yard of the chateau. The pungent smell of cooked cabbage hung in the air, but underneath I still got the hint of ginger. The cookies were nearby.
     
    I ducked into the pantry and hit the jackpot. On a rolling rack filled with metal trays, gingersnaps rested alongside fresh bread loaves. My stomach growled, claiming victory. I shoved two cookies into the pocket of my hoodie, and then carefully fanned out the rest of the cookies on the tray, hiding the empty spot I’d created.
     
    Out in the kitchen, I leaned against a counter and took a bite of one of the gingersnaps. It was slightly chewy, with just the hint of a crunch on the edges, and it had a little bit of sugar sprinkled over the top. I devoured it in three big bites. Then, as I sat there pondering whether to go for the other cookie in my pocket or to grab another one from the tray, a shadow moved across windows.
     
    I froze.
     
    So did