Arlene suddenly stopped, breathing hard but steady, as she saw that the trapdoor leading to the attic was already back in place, the pole with the hook on the end rehung on the nearby wall, the wood swinging slightly in place on the nail…and realized that even if Lucy had pulled up the stairs after her, so she could hide in the attic with Gramma, she couldn’t have hung the long pole back up on the wall.
Heart jumping in her narrow chest, Arlene looked at the doorways that lined the hallway on both sides. Every door was shut, and the narrow space where each hung just above the bottom of the jamb revealed nothing but darkness within. The hall itself was faintly lit by a window set in the end of the wall, a window that lacked curtains in front of the yellowing canvas shade—a window that emit
