“Faded blue paint chipped and peeled off the old house. Thick weeds choked the flowerbeds and grew up through cracks in the walk. Hot summers and freezing winters had turned the white picket fence a dirty gray. A few broken pickets poked jagged edges in all directions. Violet backed away. “Let’s go home,” she said. “Wait,” said Jessie. “I know this house. We trick-or-treated here. Remember? The housekeeper was that funny lady dressed as a mummy. She brought us into the living room—” “To a nice o...ld lady in a wheelchair,” said Violet. “I do remember. She was dressed like Betsy Ross and was sewing an American flag.” “I don’t remember,” Benny said. “Sure you do,” said Jessie. “There was a big silver candleholder on the table next to her with five black-and-orange candles. Candle wax was dripping onto the table, and you picked up a glob and shaped it into a ball.” Benny’s eyes grew wide. “And she let me ride up and down the staircase in her special elevator.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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