Amanda perched on the steps of her expansive veranda, her chin nestled in the palm of her hand as she gazed despondently at the gloomy September sky. The day had started with a radiant glow and flawless blue skies, only to shift suddenly about thirty minutes ago. The sun disappeared behind a formidable wall of dark clouds, ushering in a biting, chilly wind. Amanda's brow furrowed in discontent. She trembled slightly, pulled the collar of her ivory sweater up to cover her ears, and buttoned it securely. Muttering under her breath about "wishing Julie would hurry because it's going to rain," she shoved her hands into the deep pockets of her sweater and scanned the meticulously manicured lawn until her eyes rested on a solitary blue hydrangea bush with one lone heavy bloom.

Suddenly, from another veranda down the gleaming street, there was a flash of red fabric and an accompanying melodious whistle. Amanda leapt up and waved energetically. The flash of red materialized into Julie, who was adorned in a vivid red sweater, cap, and skirt set. "Don't be mad! You absolutely cannot be cross with me," Julie called out as she approached brightly. "Anne was baking a massive batch of sugar cookies and I simply had to wait until they were done! I've brought some for you. Here!" She cheerfully stuffed a handful of still-warm cookies into Amanda's pocket.

"You did keep me waiting forever, Julie," Amanda grumbled half-heartedly through a mouthful of cookie; "but I forgive you. I was just starting to get really—angry!" Julie—or Juliet in full—brushed off the complaint with a wave of her hand. "We can't go! Momsie flat out forbade it. Why did it have to stop being sunny? Rain will start any minute now," Julie lamented with frustration.

"I know," Amanda responded with sympathy, nodding slightly. "Mother said no long before you arrived, but we were so excited about it! Opportunities for canoeing this season are almost gone." They slumped back onto the wide steps listlessly and comforted themselves with the remaining warm cookies.

Life felt especially bleak when cherished plans unraveled and skies turned gray! They soon devoured the last crumb of the cookie supply.

"What happened to your hydrangea bush? It was blooming beautifully just yesterday," Julie suddenly remarked.

"Bates's dog!" Amanda retorted tersely, needing no further explanation—Julie chuckled at its now disheveled appearance before falling silent once more.

There were moments when these two could chatter endlessly for hours without tiring, and other moments where they sat in comfortable silence, understanding each other's thoughts without uttering a word.

Their friendship stretched back beyond their earliest memories, inheriting bonds from their parents' friendships that dated back years before their births. Together they had navigated every milestone from kindergarten to high school side by side. Even their birthdays fell within the same month—a serendipity they held dear.

The only time they faced separation was during those few weeks in summer vacations when differing family preferences for coastal or mountain retreats temporarily set them apart. Otherwise, nothing could divide them—nothing except this season cloaked in clouds and filled with an enigmatic air that transformed familiar lands into mysterious landscapes waiting to unveil their secrets.

It is now the perfect moment to introduce the Boarded-up House, which has been gazing at us with an unsettling presence ever since this story began! In fact, it had unnerved the two girls ever since they moved to the quaint town of Rockridge, living on opposite sides of it. Even long before their arrival, long before they were born, or Rockridge began its rapid development into a charming, contemporary country town, the Boarded-up House had gazed at the passers-by with a nearly aggravating persistence.

The house was set well back from the street, within a large enclosure shielded by a dilapidated picket-fence and a gate that never closed, hanging precariously on one hinge. Overgrown bushes and tall, wild grass thrived in this enclosure, and near the porch stood two pine-trees like sentinels guarding the entrance. At the back was a small orchard filled with ancient cherry trees, and near the rear door stood a well-curb with its large sweep half decayed.

The house itself was a sprawling structure of Colonial design, featuring three tall pillars that supported the veranda roof and extended above the second story. Generous wings flanked each side of the main part. It stood proudly on a sloping lawn, and as mentioned before, it "stared" at passers-by—for good reason. Near the roof were two small half-circle windows resembling eyes that blankly and unwaveringly stared.

All other windows and doors were firmly boarded up. The boards on the grand front door contained a smaller door secured by a very rusty lock. No one ever entered or exited. No one tended to its grounds. The place remained without inhabitants for years. The Boarded-up House had always been sealed off for as long as anyone could remember. It was never listed for sale. When Rockridge started to grow, people speculated about it with significant interest for some time. But due to never gaining any definitive information, they eventually accepted it as an oddity.

For Amanda Sprague and Julie Kenway, who moved into homes on either side of it five years prior, it became an endless source of fascination initially. They played house on its broad veranda, climbed trees in its orchard, organized intricate games of hide-and-seek among thick bushes growing close to its walls, and invented lengthy stories about its imagined past residents during idle moments. But as they grew older and more involved in other activities, their interest waned until eventually, it became merely an irritation since it created a sizable gap between their homes that they found inconvenient to cross.

On this stormy afternoon, deprived of their planned canoe trip on the stream winding through their town toward the wide Sound, they sat munching sugar cookies while glaring at the gloomy weather and pondering nothing in particular. Suddenly there was a flash of gray across the lawn followed closely by a streak of yellow. Both girls jumped to their feet as Julie exclaimed indignantly:

"Check out Bates' dog chasing Max!" The latter was the Kenways' enormous Maltese cat, fitting his imposing name physically, but not in behavior, as he was renowned for being the timidest cat around. The girls stood on their toes to watch the pursuit. Max darted across the manicured lawn and through a gap in the fence of the Boarded-up House, with his pursuer barking at his heels, vanishing into the dense thicket near the house's wing. The pup dove into the bushes after him, resulting in confused yelps. Shortly thereafter, Bates's dog emerged, one ear humorously tilted, and lumbered away in search of new diversions. With no further excitement, the girls returned to their seats on the porch steps. Julie soon remarked idly:

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"Does it seem odd to you, Amanda, where Max could have gone?"

"Not really," responded Amanda, lacking any particular flair for imagination. "What could possibly have happened to him? I suppose he climbed into the bushes."

"He couldn't have done that without being within reach of the dog," Julie countered. "And he couldn't have exited from either side without us seeing him. So where does that leave him? I think we should go look for him!" Initially disinterested and simply looking to pass time, she suddenly bubbled with enthusiasm—such was Julie's nature.

"I don't see why you want to do that," argued Amanda. "I don't care where he went as long as he's away from Bates' dog. I'm perfectly comfortable right here!" Amanda was big and fair with a tendency towards lethargy.

"But can't you see," Julie pressed on, "he must've hidden somewhere unusual—and a place he knew well because he headed straight there! I'm just dying to find out his hiding spot." Julie was slim, dark-haired with an elfin charm; always up to mischief with vivid imagination and an unpredictable zest for sudden plans—a stark contrast to the calm and slow-moving Amanda. Typically, Julie had her way in these matters, and this was no exception.

"Alright then!" sighed Amanda reluctantly. "Let's go!" They meandered down from the porch steps, crossed the lawn and slipped through the gap in the fence, attempting to separate the thick bushes Max had disappeared behind. These were tall lilac bushes grown dense and wild. Julie pushed her way through them, tearing her sweater pocket and disheveling her hair in the process. Amanda wisely stayed at the edge without much interest.

"There’s nothing back here but the house's foundation," she commented.

"You're wrong—there is something!" hollered Julie excitedly from within the foliage. “Crawl around to where it’s easier at the edge! I’ve got something incredible to show you." The mystery in Julie's voice piqued Amanda’s curiosity enough to crawl through without hesitation, finding her friend inspecting a small boarded-up cellar window behind the bushes. One of its wooden panels had rotted away from age and moisture.

"Here's where Max vanished," murmured Julie, "and he could be in there right now!" Amanda examined the hole with indifference.

"That could be," she acknowledged. "He might come out eventually. Now that you've found his hiding spot, are you coming back to the porch? We could squeeze in a game of tennis before it starts raining." Julie leaned back on her heels and locked eyes with her companion.

"Amanda," she said, in a tense whisper, "have you ever thought there's something unusual about the Abandoned House?"

"No," replied Amanda honestly. "I've never thought about it."

"Well, I have—every now and then—and sometimes I've even dreamed of exploring it. Listen, Amanda, wouldn't it be thrilling to explore it? I'm just dying to!" Amanda stared at her and shrugged.

"Heaven no! It would be dark, musty, and filthy. Besides, we shouldn't be in there. We'd be trespassing. Why would you even think of that? There's probably nothing inside anyway. It's just an empty house."

"That's where you're wrong!" Julie countered. "I heard Dad say once that it's fully furnished and left exactly as it was—some old lady told him that, I believe he said. It's a colonial mansion too, and it was here before the Revolution. There wasn't any Rockridge town until recently—just the turnpike where Warrington Avenue is now. This house was the only one around for miles."

"Well, that sounds interesting, but I still don't see why you want to get inside. I'm perfectly content with the outside view. Plus, we couldn't enter even if we tried. So that's that!" If Amanda thought she'd ended the debate with Julie using such logic, she was in for a letdown. Julie shrugged with frustration.

"I've never met anyone like you, Amanda Sprague! You have absolutely no imagination! Don't you see how Max snuck in? Well, I could get in the same way, and so could you!" She tugged sharply at the boards and managed to dislodge another one. "Five more minutes' work will clear this window, and then—"

"But good grief, Julie, you're not seriously going to break into a window of some random house and climb into the cellar like a burglar!" exclaimed Amanda, genuinely horrified.

"I absolutely am! It's an adventure, Amanda—just like we've always wanted. Remember how we've always wished for some excitement above all else? And we never get any adventures; now here's one right within our grasp!" Julie's fervor was almost tearful as she tried to persuade the doubtful Amanda. Eventually, as always happened with Julie's requests, Amanda gave in.

"Fine. It is an adventure, I admit that. But why not wait for a bright sunny day? It'll be terribly dark and gloomy inside this afternoon."

"Ridiculous!" exclaimed Julie, who couldn't stand waiting even a moment to act on an inspired idea. "Run back to your place, Amanda, and sneak out a flashlight and some batteries. Make sure no one sees you!" However, Amanda outright refused, arguing that she'd surely get caught and questioned by the ever-watchful Bridget who kept the kitchen under surveillance.

"Alright then, I guess I'll have to get them from my house. Anne never questions what I'm up to," Julie said with a resigned sigh. "You stay here and wait!" She dashed towards her own house and quickly returned, hidden flashlight and batteries stashed under her hoodie, her hands also filled with fresh cookies.

"We’ll eat these once we're inside. Here, shove them into your pockets! And help me break these other boards away. Wow! They’re really falling apart!" Amanda reluctantly assisted, nervous about the potential fallout, but soon they had the small window clear of debris. Julie poked her head in and scanned the darkness.

"It’s pitch black in here, but I see two glowing spots—most likely Max perched on a beam. It isn’t far to the ground. Here goes nothing!" She slid in feet first, held onto the windowsill for a moment, then vanished from sight.

"Oh, Julie!" Amanda gasped as she stuck her head through the opening into the darkness. "Where are you?"

"Right here!" Julie laughed from below. "Trying to get this flashlight on. Come on down! The stones on the wall act like perfect steps; you can easily find footing!"

"Oh, but what about the mice, and spiders, and—all sorts of creepy things!" moaned Amanda. "I’m terrified of them!"

"That's ridiculous! They can't harm you at all!" Julie retorted, lacking any sympathy. "If you don't hurry up, I'm leaving without you. I'm too eager to explore to wait around. Better catch up if you're joining me."

"But it’s not right! We’d be trespassing!" Amanda protested one last time. Julie dismissed this with a wave.

"We settled that ages ago. Bye! I’m going! My flashlight’s ready." With a sigh of resignation, Amanda caved in.

"Wait, wait! I'm coming!" She followed Julie’s lead, though the entrance was trickier than it seemed. Her legs flailed in the air, searching frantically for the steps Julie had indicated.

"I'm stuck! I can't move! Why am I so clumsy and slow?" she groaned. Julie laughed, guided Amanda's feet to a ledge, and pulled her down. Amanda landed with a thump, breathless and covered in cobwebs.

The flashlight's beam barely pierced the darkness of the vast, empty space they stood in. Thick cobwebs draped from the ceiling beams like eerie curtains. The room itself was mostly vacant except for some ancient farm tools abandoned in one corner. As Julie lifted the light higher, a staircase came faintly into view.

"This way!" she commanded, and they proceeded cautiously. Suddenly, a loud scratching noise followed by a thud echoed behind them. Both girls gasped and clutched each other in fear, but it was only Max, disturbed from his hiding spot. They spun around just in time to see him climbing through the window.

"Julie, this is awful!" Amanda panted. "My heart feels like it's going to explode. Can we please go back?"

"This is amazing!" Julie chuckled gleefully. "It's what I've always dreamed of—like being on an adventure with Christopher Columbus! Going back now is not an option! Can you believe we've ignored such a mystery right under our noses for so long?" She tugged the reluctant Amanda towards the cellar stairs.