“Oh, I wish I were Sherlock Holmes!” Julie exclaimed, throwing her arms up in dramatic frustration.

“Why on earth would you want that?” Amanda asked, her tone a mix of confusion and concern.

“Imagine if Sherlock were on the case,” Julie said, pacing restlessly around their makeshift study. “He’d have cracked the mystery of the Boarded-up House ages ago! I feel like we’re spinning our wheels here. We’re missing something, I just know it!”

Amanda watched her friend with a mix of sympathy and curiosity. “I get that you’re obsessed, but we’ve been over everything. I mean, what more is there to uncover?”

Julie’s eyes were intense, her frustration palpable. “It’s more than just idle curiosity, Amanda. This story—it’s got under my skin in a way nothing else ever has. The tragic misunderstanding between that mother and her son... It’s heartbreaking. The mother was devastated, and I think the son was right in his own way. The past can’t be judged by our current standards, but knowing that he died so young—so close to resolving things—it’s the saddest thing ever.”

Amanda sighed, her gaze softening as she linked her arm with Julie’s. They walked slowly through the little orchard, the weight of the story settling around them like the emerging blossoms of spring.

“I feel the same,” Amanda admitted. “But maybe we should shift our focus. Have you noticed those old books in the library? Some of them looked intriguing. Even if we don’t find anything earth-shattering, it could be fun to explore them. I love old books!”

Julie’s eyes brightened. “That’s a brilliant idea! We’ve never had the chance to dive into them properly. Let’s do it this afternoon!”

By early afternoon, the girls were back in the library, their excitement palpable. They set up five candles to pierce through the musty gloom of the room. Dust motes danced in the candlelight as they surveyed the towering bookshelves, their curiosity piqued.

“Look at these!” Julie exclaimed, brushing dust off a set of large volumes. “They’re all the same, with these striking red covers. They’re called ‘Punch’—what an odd name! I wonder what they’re about.”

Amanda was already engrossed in a different book, chuckling at the antique humor. Julie began flipping through the volumes, her excitement growing as she read aloud from the pages filled with satirical cartoons and old-time jokes.

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They lost track of time, reveling in the humor of the past. By the time they finished with the last volume of “Punch,” they had a sizable pile of books on the floor beside them. Amanda, always the methodical one, started to return them to the shelves.

As she placed the final volume back, she noticed something peculiar—a small keyhole partially hidden behind the bookcases. “Julie, come here!” Amanda’s voice was edged with excitement.

Julie hurried over, candle in hand. She peered into the dim space. “What is it?”

“Look!” Amanda pointed to the keyhole, which was barely visible through the tattered remnants of wallpaper.

Julie’s eyes widened. “That’s a keyhole for sure. But why would it be hidden behind these shelves?”

They moved another candle closer, examining the wall behind the shelves. There was indeed a small keyhole surrounded by a faint outline of a doorframe, partially obscured by the remnants of old wallpaper.

“I think I’ve got it,” Julie said, her face lighting up with realization. “This must be an old door that was bricked up or covered when the room was converted into a library. They probably papered over it and then added the bookshelves to hide it.”

Amanda nodded. “That makes sense. And the wallpaper must have deteriorated over time, which is why we can see it now.”

“But what do we do about it?” Amanda asked.

“There’s only one thing to do!” Julie’s voice was filled with determination. “We need to move the shelves and see what’s behind that door. It could be a hidden room or storage space!”

Amanda hesitated. “But what if it’s locked?”

“We’ll deal with that when we get there,” Julie said resolutely. “Let’s get these shelves out of the way!”

With renewed energy, they set to work. The task was grueling, as they removed armfuls of dusty books and wrestled with the heavy shelves. The library floor soon resembled a chaotic sea of volumes. As they stripped away the final layers of wallpaper, the outline of the doorframe became clearer.

“There’s no handle,” Amanda observed, examining the now-exposed doorframe. “It must have been removed when they covered it up.”

Julie’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “I remember seeing an old chisel in the kitchen. We can use that to pry it open!”

Amanda dashed off to retrieve the chisel, returning breathless but eager. Julie inserted the chisel into the crack and applied pressure. The door resisted stubbornly until, with a sudden jolt, it swung open, releasing a cloud of dust.

Julie sneezed, her eyes watering. “That dust nearly knocked me over! Let’s see what’s inside!”

They cautiously peered into the dark opening, expecting to find a neglected closet or storage space. Instead, they gasped in unison as they saw a narrow, winding staircase leading upward into the shadows.

“What in the world?” Julie whispered, her voice trembling with excitement. “A hidden staircase!”

The mystery of the Boarded-up House had taken a new, thrilling turn. The girls exchanged determined glances, ready to uncover whatever secrets lay hidden in the dim recesses above.