The Secret Bedroom Read Free Page A

tell her to come over and say hi to you.”
    â€œThanks, Mrs. Thomas,” Lea said awkwardly.
    â€œNow, let me show you the rest of the second floor,” Mrs. Thomas said, turning her attention back to Lea’s parents. “There’s a charming extra room that could be a guest bedroom or a study.”
    Taking a last look at what would soon become her room, Lea followed them out into the hallway. Mrs. Thomas and her parents were nearly to the end of the dark corridor. She could hear Mrs. Thomas chattering enthusiastically about the possibilities for the master bedroom.
    â€œHey—what’s this?” Lea had stopped at a metal ladder bolted into the wall just outside her bedroom door. Peering up, she saw that it led to a wooden trapdoor in the ceiling. “Where does this go?” Lea asked.
    The three adults came back to where Lea was standing. Mr. Carson tested the metal ladder for sturdiness. “Must lead up to the attic,” he said, staring up at the ceiling trapdoor.
    â€œYes, there’s an attic up there,” Mrs. Thomas said, checking the notes on her clipboard, “Quite a sizable one, actually. Want to see it?”
    â€œNo, thanks,” Lea said immediately.
    â€œOf course,” Mrs. Carson said. “I love attics. When I was a little girl, I spent all my time up in our attic, playing with all the treasures up there.”

    â€œYeah. Treasures,” Lea said sarcastically. “Like spiders and dirt and bats.”
    Mrs. Carson gave Lea an unhappy look. “I really wish you’d make an effort.”
    â€œTo do what?” Lea snapped.
    â€œTo get into this more,” her mother said. “To be more cheerful. At least a little bit. It’s hard for
all
of us, you know. Not just you.”
    Lea felt embarrassed. Mrs. Thomas was staring at her. She hated to be scolded in front of strangers. Why couldn’t her mother ever learn?
    â€œOkay. Wow! Let’s check out the attic,” she said with false enthusiasm. She moved in front of her dad, bumping him out of the way, grabbed the sides of the gray metal ladder, and began to climb.
    â€œI think you just push the door away,” Mrs. Thomas called up to her. “Just slide it off the opening.”
    Lea reached up to the ceiling and pushed against the trapdoor with both hands. It lifted easily. She slid it off the opening and climbed a few more rungs on the ladder until her head poked into the attic.
    It was hot up there, at least ten degrees hotter than in the house. The attic, Lea saw, was all one open space, long and low. The ceiling followed the slant of the roof just above it. The walls were plasterboard, cracked and yellowing. A single round window at one end lit the entire area.
    â€œClimb on up so we can see it too,” her father called impatiently.
    Lea pulled herself up into the room. When she stood up, there were only a couple of inches to spareabove her head. Her father, who was six-three, would have to stoop.
    â€œIt’s so beautiful up here!” she called down to them, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I want to spend all my time up here, with all of the wonderful treasures.”
    â€œLea, give us a break,” her father said, pulling his large frame through the narrow opening, then standing up as best as he could to check out the attic.
    A few seconds later Lea’s mom and Mrs. Thomas joined them in the low, stuffy space. “Not much air up here,” Mrs. Carson said, fanning herself with her hand, her first complaint of the day.
    â€œThis will make a wonderful storage area,” Mrs. Thomas said, scratching the back of her neck.
    This place makes
me
itch too, Lea thought bitterly.
    Lea walked to the small, round window. Through the dust-caked glass, she could see down to the driveway and a small corner of the front yard, overgrown with weeds and tall grass. The afternoon sun was lowering behind the trees.
    Then she walked past the three