Secrets in the Attic (Secrets 1)

herself carefully, slowly, sometimes because he or she

didn't remember these things until something stirred

up the remembrance. Maybe we go through our whole

lives and never really get to know the people we love

or think we love. Look at how much I had learned

about Karen in just the last few months.

My father mistook my deep thinking for

sadness.

"We'll try to do something this weekend," he

promised after we left the restaurant. "Maybe we'll

take a ride to the city and see a show. I think your

mother gets this weekend off. That'll be fun, won't it?" "Yes," I said. I juggled my sadness about Karen

missing all the fun with the realization that she would

have the house to herself and wouldn't be so restricted

in her movements. She could even watch television,

play music, anything, if she was just careful about not

leaving any traces. We'd have to go over that, I

thought. We'd have to be sure that was followed

strictly.

There was so much preparation to do and so

little time to do it. An idea occurred to me.

"Daddy, I'd like to stay home from school

tomorrow."

"You would? Why?"

"It's going to be terrible for me to go back right

after all this. They'll gang up on me to tell them everything I know, and they won't leave me alone all day. I

need a little time. Please," I pleaded.

"Sure, I understand," he said. "I'll call your

mother at the hospital and let her know. No problem,

honey."