Secrets in the Attic (Secrets 1)

"At first, I think he just slept on the sofa in the living room. Lately, he's been sleeping in the apartment."

"Oh." That answer brought some relief. "I can't imagine my father leaving my mother at night and her not becoming very disturbed about it. Your mother hasn't said anything?"

"Not to me. Maybe she is happy about it. I can understand it if she is. I pretend I don't know. That's another reason it's so hard to talk to her about it all."

"You can't lock your door?"

"He's the only one with keys to doors other than the front door in this house."

"That night I saw you walking in the village, crying. Was it because of this?"

"Yes. I knew he would be coming to my room later. I was thinking of just walking forever, but I had no place to go, and it got cold."

"You could have come to my house."

"And then everyone would know, Zipporah. How would you like people to know that was happening to you?"

"Well, he should be arrested or something!"

"Oh, that would be just great. That would solve everything. The drugstore would go out of business, and we'd definitely be out on the street. Besides, how do you think people would treat me, look at me? I can tell you. Remember when we all learned that Paula Loomis's brother might have raped her? Remember how everyone treated Paula, stayed away from her? It was as if it was all her fault and she was dirty or something. It's why she dropped out and went to live with her aunt in New York City. Not that I really care what people here think of me," she said. "It's what would happen to my mother here. She would only blame me and hate me."

"Well, what are you going to do, Karen?"

"I don't know. Most nights, I lie here terrified and can't sleep. It upsets my stomach and gives me headaches."

"How many times has he come into your room?" "Enough."

"Did he do anything else?"

"What do you think?"

I shook my head. Dared I ask more, pursue, force her to give me the grisly details?

"I'll draw a picture for you. He comes in here with just his bathrobe on. He's naked beneath it."

"Oh," I said. Actually, it was more like a sigh of horror coming up out of my lungs. "I' m sorry," I said.

"Forget it. I don't want to talk about it. Don't ask me anything else. I'm getting sick again just telling you about it, and it's making my headache even worse."

"Doesn't your mother want to know why you're not feeling well?"

"She thinks it's just my time of the month. It's never been easy for me to have a period. She knows that, so she accepts that excuse."

I nodded. "Are you going to go to school tomorrow?"

"Probably."

A multitude of things ran through my mind, especially when I recalled my conversation with my mother. Karen could get pregnant. What should I do, say?

"And you still don't want to tell your mother about Harry and what he's doing?"

She looked away.

"Karen?"

"I said I was finished talking about it! I told you, it's making me sick to my stomach."

"Okay, okay. Do you want to know the homework assignments for tomorrow?"