CHAPTER 9There was the sound of a typewriter. A buzz and then a pause. Someone pecking out a message.
Who would be typing in the middle of the night? I saw the green dial shining through the dark, but I couldn’t tell the time.
The room was icy. From somewhere behind me, a steady wind was coming in. What’s that other sound? Like a river. The rain. It’s raining outdoors.
Mama won’t like me running around like this. I’ll just go to the door and see who’s making that noise. I can look over the railing. No, it’s dark in the living room. Maybe it’s Daddy downstairs. Maybe he’s home from work now. Poor Daddy works so hard. But he’ll hold me even if it is late. He’ll tell me a story and keep me warm. And I’ll smell that funny smell on his suit. Like smoke.
Go on tiptoe so Mama won’t hear. Why,
