“Come on, Julie!” Amanda urged, her impatience palpable as she shifted from one foot to the other. “Why are you just standing there, lost in thought?”

Julie snapped out of her reverie, her eyes widening with realization. “I was just thinking. Remember when we first explored the Boarded-Up House? Didn’t you tell me you heard from someone that the house was left furnished, just like that, and it wasn’t likely the owners would ever come back?”

Amanda frowned, puzzled. “Yes, I remember you mentioning that. Why is it important now?”

Julie’s face lit up with excitement. “Of course! I can’t believe I forgot about it until now!” She stopped abruptly, her mind racing as she recalled the conversation from years ago.

“What’s the hold-up?” Amanda pressed, growing more frustrated. “You’re the one who was so keen on this, and now you’re just staring into space?”

Julie took a deep breath, trying to piece together the fragmented memory. “The problem is, the details are a bit fuzzy. It was years ago when I overheard my father talking about it. Someone had been visiting us when we first moved here. They asked my dad about the old house, and he mentioned meeting an elderly lady who knew the place was fully furnished and didn’t think the owners would return. It made an impression on me back then, even though I was pretty young and not really paying attention.”

Amanda’s eyes widened with interest. “So, the old lady might know something crucial. We have to find her!”

Julie hesitated. “But how do I even start? I’d have to ask my dad for her name, and even if he remembers, tracking her down could be impossible. She could be anywhere!”

“It’s our best shot,” Amanda insisted, her voice filled with determination. “In detective stories, they always say you have to follow every lead, no matter how slim. This is our lead.”

Julie nodded slowly, her resolve firming up. “Alright, I’ll ask my dad tonight. I’ll see if I can get any more information about her.”

That evening, as the clock ticked closer to bedtime, Julie and her father settled into the library. Julie was sitting at the desk, her textbooks spread out before her, while her father reclined in his favorite armchair, engrossed in a newspaper. The room was warm and cozy, the soft light from the lamp casting a golden glow over the room’s dark wood paneling.

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“Dad, do you know any elderly people?” Julie asked, trying to sound casual as she helped her father with the evening chores.

He looked up from his newspaper, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Well, I suppose I know a few. Why the sudden interest? Planning to start an old folks’ home?”

Julie shook her head, her curiosity piqued. “No, nothing like that. I was just wondering if you could name a few.”

Her father, engrossed in a pre-election article, looked a bit distracted. “Let me see… there’s Grandfather Lambert, Great-aunt Lucia, Mr. Selby, and—oh, I’m not sure who else off the top of my head. Why?”

Julie pressed on, sensing she was close to a breakthrough. “What about that old lady who knew about the Boarded-Up House? Do you remember her?”

Her father’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Ah, you mean Great-aunt Lucia. Why didn’t you just say so? She used to live in New York and knew quite a bit about the house next door. She said the owners left suddenly and left everything behind.”

Julie’s heart raced. “Great-aunt Lucia? Really?”

“Yes, that’s right,” her father confirmed. “She knew the previous owners and mentioned they had vacated in a hurry. I don’t recall her mentioning their names, though. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to my article.”

Julie, her mind buzzing with excitement, tried to focus on her studies but found it impossible. Great-aunt Lucia was their link to unraveling the mystery of the Boarded-Up House. Yet, reaching her seemed daunting. Lucia was a reclusive invalid living in Poughkeepsie, a place Julie had never visited and where her father rarely went.

Determined to make contact, Julie resolved to figure out how to meet her. Writing a letter seemed impersonal and ineffective. A personal visit was necessary, but how could she arrange this without raising suspicion or appearing overly eager?

Once her father had finished his newspaper and retired for the night, Julie broached the topic again, this time with a more casual tone. “Dad, Great-aunt Lucia sounds like a fascinating person.”

Her father looked up, his face softening. “She certainly is. I always enjoyed her stories. She’s full of tales from the past. I’ve meant to take you to visit her.”

Julie’s heart leaped. “Oh, I’d love to go! When could we visit her?”

Her father seemed thoughtful. “I haven’t been to Poughkeepsie in a couple of years. I suppose we could plan a trip the weekend before the election. I’ll write to her tomorrow.”

Julie’s excitement dimmed slightly. “But that’s almost a month away!”

Her father chuckled. “I’m afraid that’s the earliest I can manage. You were never interested before, and now you’re in a hurry? You’re quite the puzzling child!”

Julie said goodnight, her mind racing with anticipation. That night, she barely slept, consumed by thoughts of the impending visit and the prospect of solving the mystery. The idea of waiting a month felt almost unbearable, but she was determined to make the most of this opportunity.