Tulip D. Quilligan loved to walk. She loved the fresh air, clearing her mind after hours of yelling at boisterous seventh graders.

On Saturday, September 8th, she returned home from her walk and found a crisp white envelope lying on her doorstep. She crouched down to pick it up and primly slashed it open with a fingernail.

Dear Mrs. Quilligan,

We regret to inform you that you will not live to see your class of seventeen tomorrow. They will travel to school, surely, and hopefully arrive on time, but by then, they will have a substitute teacher by the name of Whitney Hewith. Don’t fret. She’ll cover the same curriculum.

We will come at exactly 3:29 AM, and there will be nothing you can do.

P.S. We hope you enjoyed your walk.

It was signed D’enoument, and being an English teacher, Mrs. Quilligan found this odd. After all, the word means the ending of a mystery, while this only began one.

~

At precisely 3:29 AM, Tulip D. Quilligan promptly disappeared, stirring the covers.