“Casey said. “Otherwise Dad’ll know—” “It’s too late,” Margaret interrupted, her eyes on the driveway. “He’s already pulled up the drive.” “It’ll only take a second,” Casey insisted, his hand on the basement doorknob. “I’ll run down and run right up.” “No!” Margaret stood tensely in the center of the narrow hallway, halfway between the front door and the basement door, her eyes toward the front. “He’s parked. He’s getting out of the car.” “But he’ll know! He’ll know!” Casey cried, his voice high... and whiny. “So?” “Remember how mad he got last time?” Casey asked. “Of course I remember,” Margaret replied. “But he’s not going to kill us, Casey, just because we took a peek at his plants. He’s—” Margaret stopped. She moved closer to the screen door. “Hey, wait.” “What’s going on?” Casey asked. “Hurry!” Margaret turned and gestured with both hands. “Go! Get downstairs—fast! Mr. Henry from next door. He stopped Dad.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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