The 100-Year-Old Secret Read Free

door when they could be trying to find out what that snake message meant?
    Xena didn't answer right away. Her long brown hair hung over her face, hiding her expression. She knew they shouldn't have come in here. “The door is locked,” she said.
    â€œLet me try,” Xander said, pushing her aside.
    The knob turned smoothly, and the door moved a fraction of an inch when he yanked on it. But then it stopped.
    â€œYup. It's locked.” He fought back a surge of fear and turned to take in their surroundings.
    â€œWhat is this, a storeroom?” he asked. It was filled with boxes in uneven piles on a concrete floor. Dust swirled in the weak afternoon sunlight slanting down from the only window, set high on one wall.
    Xena didn't answer, but instead said, tryingto sound calm, “I'm sure the waitress didn't mean to lock us in. I'm sure she's on her way back to let us out.”
    Xander sneezed.
    â€œBless you,” Xena said automatically.
    Xander turned back to the door and pounded on it. “Help!” he shouted. No answer, so he kicked it. “Ow!” He hopped on his other foot and sneezed again.
    â€œIt's no use,” Xena said. “That hallway we came through was deserted. No one will hear you unless they happen to be standing right outside the door. We'll just have to find another way out, that's all.” They both gazed up at the window.
    Xander pulled one of the big boxes over to the wall and started to climb on it, but the cardboard collapsed under his foot. He tried another one, hoping it was stronger. Still no good. Time for Xena to do her thing.
    â€œCan you get to it?” Xander asked, looking at the window. Aside from being an excellent long-distance runner and having a black belt in karate, Xena was an expert rock climber.
    Xena nodded. “Piece of cake.” She took off her running shoes and her socks, spat on her hands, rubbed them together, and started pulling herself up the cinderblock wall.
    Compared with some of the rock walls she had scaled back home, this was as simple as climbing a ladder. The cinderblock surface was irregular, and her toes and fingers found easy purchase as her long arms and legs moved smoothly, pulling her toward the light. Most people said she climbed like a cat, but Xander thought she looked more like a spider.
    In next to no time she was high above him, her hands gripping the windowsill. She peered out through the dirty glass.
    â€œGo on!” Xander called. “What are you waiting for? Call for help! Climb out and get someone!”
    Xena looked down at him over one shoulder. “There's no one out there,” she said, and the defeated tone of her voice made his heart sink. “It's an alley or something. And there are bars on the window. Even if I broke the glass I couldn't get out.”
    She descended more slowly than she had gone up and then dropped the last few feet, landing lightly on her toes. She put her socks and shoes back on and glanced at her brother. He looked so worried that she swallowed her own fear.
    â€œDon't worry,” she said. “We'll get out of here. I promise.” Fortunately he didn't ask herhow. Now if she could only reassure herself as well as her little brother. “Okay, let's figure this out,” she said. “Where are we, anyway?”
    Both of them looked around again. “Some kind of storeroom,” Xander said. He inspected one of the boxes. “‘Tableware—Seconds,’” he read. “What does that mean?”
    â€œYou know,” Xena said. “Remember those sheets that Mom got where the colors didn't match? Those were seconds. They're cheaper than the first-quality ones. They must buy a lot of things like that for the pub.”
    â€œWell, that's not going to help much.” Xander kicked a box labeled DISHES—DEFECTIVE , and the box flopped onto its side.
    â€œThat's weird,” Xena commented. “The box is sealed but it seems