Chicken Pox Panic, the Read Free

tried.

SIX
    It was Wednesday.
    Abby’s bumps were scabby, so she went back to school.
    At recess Stacy and Abby met near the swings.
    â€œI have a plan,” Abby said.
    Stacy looked around to see if anyone was listening. “About my adoption?” she whispered.
    Abby nodded. “When does your mother get home?”
    â€œ5:30.”
    â€œThat gives us plenty of time. Today I’ll solve your mystery,” Abby said.
    Stacy cheered, “All right! Meet me at my house after school.”
    When the bell rang after school, both girls raced toward Blossom Hill Lane—the cul-de-sac.
    The wind was blowing hard.
    Abby dug her hands into her coat pockets. A quarter was in one pocket. Three gummy bears were in the other.
    Abby ran beside Stacy.
    The cul-de-sac seemed quiet as they entered Stacy’s house. Sunday Funnies, Stacy’s cock-a-poo, barked as they came in the door. He shook his furry white head.
    The girls headed straight for the master bedroom.
    Stacy pointed to a file drawer. “My mother keeps important papers in there,” she said.
    Abby’s heart pounded. She felt like a jitterbox inside. This isn’t right , Abby worried. We shouldn’t be snooping .
    Then Abby looked at Stacy’s face. This wassomething important, and she wanted to help her friend.
    Abby took a deep breath and pulled the handle.
    Locked!
    â€œWhere’s the key?” she asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” said Stacy.
    â€œLet’s look around.” Abby led the way.
    First, to the closet. They looked in the shoe boxes. No key.
    They looked in the lamp table beside the bed. A package of gum, some tissues, and a Bible were inside. But no key. Abby felt even worse about snooping.
    â€œWhere could it be?” asked Abby. “Think hard.”
    Stacy scratched her head. “Where would you hide a key?”
    â€œGood question!” Abby dashed off to the kitchen.
    â€œNow what?” asked Stacy.
    Abby went to the refrigerator. She opened the freezer door. “This is the safest place inthe house,” Abby said. “In case of fire, the freezer is a good place to keep important stuff.” She pulled three pizza boxes out.
    Stacy took out a half gallon of ice cream. And bags of strawberries from her grandma’s garden. There were frozen vegetables. A pot roast. Two bags of hot dogs. The girls stacked them on the floor.
    Sunday Funnies sniffed at the carton of ice cream.
    Abby peeked in the freezer. “Well, that’s it. There’s nothing left.”
    Then she spotted something shiny way in the back.
    It was a key stuck to the side.
    â€œLook at this!” shouted Abby, grabbing the key.
    â€œYou’re amazing!” Stacy said as the girls raced back to the bedroom.
    Abby turned the lock and opened the file drawer. “Look under the B’s for birth certificate,” she said.
    Stacy found the file folder and pulled it out.
    Opening the folder, Abby saw only one birth certificate. It was Stacy’s mother’s.
    â€œSee what I mean?” said Stacy.
    Abby thought for a minute. Maybe Stacy is right. Maybe she is adopted!
    Detectives don’t cry. But Abby sure felt like it when she saw Stacy’s face. Being adopted was a good thing. Why hadn’t Stacy’s mother told her?
    Then she remembered the freezer. And all the food. “Hurry, before your mom gets home!”
    The girls raced to the kitchen.
    â€œOh, no!” cried Stacy. “I’m in trouble now.”
    Sunday Funnies crouched under the table. He had torn the pot roast open and was half finished with the ice cream. Chocolate ice cream was all over his face and paws.
    â€œQuick! We have to do something before my mother gets home!”

    Abby took the ice cream carton away from Sunday Funnies. She threw it in the trash with the slobbery pot roast.
    The girls piled the rest of the food back into the freezer.
    Then Stacy cleaned up the floor.
    â€œI’ll use my