Secrets in the Attic (Secrets 1)

She was standing there, just in the shadows. "I heard everything," she whispered.

I looked back quickly to be sure my father was nowhere in sight and couldn't hear. Then I hurried up. She went directly into my room, and I followed. I couldn't believe that she had decided to take such a risk at this time.

"Why did you come down from the attic while my father's here?" I asked in whisper.

"I thought after all that's just happened, I had better hear everything I can firsthand," she said. "Don't worry. I'll get back up there without him hearing me. He usually watches television for a while this time in the evening." She smiled. "I know his routine."

"How?"

"There were times I came down and spied on your parents without you or them knowing."

"You did what?"

"Don't worry. I'm a trained church mouse."

She sat on my bed. Hearing her tell me this added to my sense of guilt and made me feel like more of a traitor to my own family. I had made it possible for her to snoop on my parents. What else had she observed?

"What do you mean, you spied on them? When, exactly?"

"Oh, there were times when you were gone but your mother was home before going off to her shift, and there were times when your father appeared unexpectedly," she added.

"Unexpectedly?"

She smiled. "What do they call that, afternoon delight? It's nice to see people married that long still have great passion for each other."

I felt the blood rush into my face. "What are you telling me, Karen?"

"Don't be thick. There's nothing wrong or dirty about it. They're married."

"You watched them?"

"Well, not exactly watched. I listened," she said. "I was bored sick! It helped me pass the time," she said, raising her voice.

I looked back at the door.

"Quiet," I snapped in a loud whisper.

"He's already got the television on." She looked at her watch. "I can even tell you what he's probably watching. Don't look so shocked, Zipporah. I always paid a lot of attention to what your parents did and said when I was here. They've always been . . . fascinating to me. All I've known, especially these past few years, is a mother who was so into herself she could examine her own kidneys. Besides, we're sisters," she added. "Do you think I would tell anyone anything I heard or saw in this house? It's become our house. Whether your parents know it or not, they've adopted me."

She smiled.

"Right?"

I shook my head. What was she saying? She was scaring me more and more.

"Adopted you?"

"You know what I mean. Not literally, legally adopted me, although you know I always wish they could. What I mean is, right now, thanks to you, they're providing me food and shelter. Don't blame me for imagining that they provide love as well. Or do you think they hate me now?"

"No, they don't hate you. Of course not. My father and mother are very concerned about you. That's all I hear from them."

"So?" She raised her arms. "That's why I say they've adopted me." Her expression hardened. "No one else but you and your parents really cares about me, least of all my own mother. Look at what she let happen."

I nodded. She was right. How could I be angry at her for anything? I might not have acted any differently if I were in her place, not that I ever could be.

"Okay. If you were listening, you heard what my father said about the detective. I'm worried about being questioned again by the police. I guess you were right. I should have kept my trap shut. Now I have to be in the spotlight again."

"Don't worry. We'll work it out," she said. She rose. "Let's think about it. What can you tell them? What do you actually know?"