Free Almost an Angel by Katherine Greyle

Margaret's personality. And what better way than to return the frog at a midnight rendezvous?
    Well, it had seemed logical at the time. In one brilliant move, she'd not only prove herself trustworthy, a person who kept her promises—even ones no one expected her to keep—but she would also show she was daring and not the least bit prissy about slimy creatures. That had been the plan five minutes ago, before she had discovered this huge expanse of ivy clogging the ledge.
    Carolly grabbed another vine only to have it pull loose from the wall. "Aiee!" She scrambled for another handhold, found one, then stood still while her heart pounded like a kettle drum. She felt lightheaded from the adrenaline, but she hadn't split her skull open yet, so she supposed she ought to be grateful.
    Did God protect fools? She certainly hoped so.
    She took another cautious step and had to jerk her head away from an annoying leaf that flapped her in the face. It tickled her nose, and she had the strong urge to sneeze—which would certainly pitch her over the edge.
    It was at that moment she realized she might possibly be in over her head.
    "Oh, Lord," she prayed. "This was really dumb, wasn't it? I'm sorry. Please don't kill me yet, I'm not done here."
    She pushed further along and was grateful to see the window and its recessed alcove looming just ahead. She was almost there. Another step, another handhold.
    Then she stopped. This was Margaret's window, wasn't it? She recalled the hallway in her mind's eye, carefully recounted the doorways down to the bedroom just off the nursery. Sure enough, she'd passed the right number of windows. But doors and windows didn't always coincide.
    Carolly sighed. This had to be Margaret's bedroom—she'd die of mortification if she suddenly dropped in, frog and all, on that prissy governess Miss Homswizzle . . . or Hornswatter, or whatever her name was. She bit her lip. No going back now, not with six feet of tangled vines behind her. She took another careful step.
    As a breeze picked up, Carolly couldn't stifle a small moan. Sure it was spring, but the night air cut through her already damp dress, chilling her. Her fingers, cramping from the strain of clenching the ivy, grew clumsy as she slowly turned into an icicle.
    "Once again, almost-angel Carolly, ten-year veteran of the afterlife, astounds Heaven with her stupidity. Photo, page seven." Carolly didn't know if Heaven had a newspaper, but if it did, she was sure this stunt would become a feature article, probably in the humor section.
    Just a few more feet. One more foot. Inch along, she told herself.
    Hallelujah! She'd made it.
    Carolly took a deep breath, appreciating the safety of the recessed alcove. She had enough room to turn around. If absolutely necessary, she could probably even sit down.
    Sliding up to the window, she peered inside. Unfortunately, she couldn't see a blessed thing. The full moon bathed everything outside in a delicate bluish white, but only a few stray beams found their way into the bedroom.
    Flattening her face against the glass, Carolly did her best to peer in.
    She saw Margaret's bedroom all right. It had to be. Lace furbelows abounded everywhere she looked, including the bed curtains. But no sound or movement came from within. The girl was probably asleep.
    As carefully as she could, Carolly tried to open the window. No go. "Come on, you stupid piece of eighteenth century architecture. Open up!" Carolly tugged and pulled, pushed and rattled, nearly losing her balance half a dozen times, but the window refused to budge.
    "Margaret . . . I mean Mags, wake up. I'm freezing out here."
    "Crrook!" added the frog.
    Carolly rapped on the window. "Please, please, wake up."
    Nothing. And to her total frustration, the breeze increased, rattling panes up and down the house. If Margaret did hear something, she'd assume it was the weather.
    Carolly knocked harder. "Come on, Mags. Any louder, and I'll have Miss Hornswooper on me. Or worse yet,