----------------------------------------

During study hour, while Amanda wrestled with a tangled Latin account of Cæsar’s Gallic Wars, her neighbor slipped her a note. Eager for a distraction, she unfolded it and read:

“Today, for the B. U. H. How much pocket money do you have? J.”

Amanda deciphered the initials easily but couldn’t fathom the connection to pocket money. She scribbled back:

“Okay. Only thirty cents. Will have more next week. A.”

Passing the note to Julie at the other end of the room, Amanda returned to her Latin, trusting Julie to unravel the mystery later.

Nearly a week had passed since their first encounter with the Boarded-up House, and the mundane routines of school, social events, and outdoor activities had kept Julie and Amanda busy. Yet, their minds frequently drifted back to the enigmatic quest they had stumbled upon. Alone together, they dissected the adventure, plotting future detective escapades.

“It’s like something out of a novel!” Julie exclaimed. “Who would’ve thought we’d find ourselves in the middle of such a tale, in that old, boarded-up house?”

On their way home from high school, Amanda brought up the note’s inquiry about pocket money. “What’s the deal with asking about money? I’m running low, but I don’t see why that matters.”

Julie chuckled. “Well, I’m practically broke—ten cents until the end of the month! But think about it, we need candles, matches, maybe even a couple of candlesticks to navigate through the darkness in there. And if we ask our parents, they’ll get suspicious.”

Amanda calculated, “Ten cents for candles, ten for matches, and maybe five for a candlestick. Let’s buy them now.”

As they made their purchases, Amanda had a realization. “I’ll bring a dust cloth to clean around the window where we enter. Last time, my sweater was covered in dirt, and Mom almost demanded an explanation.”

“Great idea!” Julie agreed. “My mom questioned me about my messy sweater too. I said I was playing with Max, which was partly true.”

“I wish I could think on my feet like you,” Amanda sighed.

“Don’t worry, you’ve got the smarts,” Julie reassured her. “I never would’ve thought of the dust cloth.”

Entering the Boarded-up House this time was smoother. Amanda cleaned the window ledge, minimizing damage to their clothes. Armed with candles and matches, they ventured in confidently. Julie, brimming with ideas, shared her plans.

“I’ve scoped out the place from outside. We’ve barely seen a fraction of it! There are wings off the parlor and dining room. I bet the kitchen’s in one; the other might be a library. Let’s explore today. And upstairs, there’s more to discover.”

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

“I’m most curious about that painting in the parlor,” Amanda remarked. “Think we can turn it around?”

“Oh, I’d love to, but should we? It’s heavy, and I’m not sure we can move it. Maybe we could just peek behind it,” Julie whispered, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “You know, Amanda, this feels a bit odd, sneaking around in this house and prying. I’m not sure our parents would approve. But it’s been abandoned for so long, and there’s such a mystery here. Maybe it’s not so bad. We just need to be careful not to disturb anything we shouldn’t touch. Then maybe it’ll be okay.”

Amanda nodded in agreement, though she harbored stronger reservations. The allure of adventure and mystery, however, outweighed her doubts.

As they ascended the cellar steps, Julie, leading the way, suddenly remarked, “The door’s open! We must have left it that way the other day. We need to be more cautious and leave everything as we found it.” With renewed confidence, they moved through the hall, holding their candles up to examine the pictures and briefly peering into the disheveled dining room.

Entering the drawing room, they stood before the fireplace, studying the massive frame of the picture. A heavy cord, twisted as if hastily turned, secured the picture to its hook.

“How peculiar,” Amanda whispered. But Julie’s attention was elsewhere.

“Do you see that chair near the mantel?” Julie pointed out. “It’s odd how it’s positioned with its back to the fireplace. Someone must have stood on it to turn the picture to face the wall. But why?”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Amanda. “If someone else did it, why can’t we? We can turn it back after we’ve seen it, right?”

Julie hesitated. “Two reasons why I’d rather not do it now. First, that cord might be fragile. If we touch it, the whole thing could fall. And second, I like keeping the mystery until we’ve explored more and connected the dots. Don’t you?”

Amanda agreed, and Julie continued, “Let’s check out the next room. It might be a library connected to this one.” They opened the door cautiously, revealing a library with bookshelves lining the walls and a portrait of a beautiful young woman above another fireplace.

The room showed few signs of disturbance, except for some scattered books. The portrait of the young woman captivated them, and they gazed at it intently, drawn into its mysterious allure.

“There’s something about this portrait that sets it apart,” Julie observed, her tone thoughtful and intrigued. “It feels fresher, more modern compared to the others in the drawing-room and hallway. Don’t you think so?” Amanda nodded in agreement.

“Look at her attire, those sleeves, the voluminous skirt! It’s unlike the others. And her hair, not styled in the typical elaborate manner, but smooth and simple, with a wreath of roses. She almost seems alive, ready to speak,” Julie remarked, captivated by the portrait’s details. “I feel a connection to her, like she’s more involved in the mysteries of this house than the other stiff portraits. How about we hit the public library tomorrow and dig up a book on historical costumes? We can pinpoint her era and maybe uncover some clues. What do you think?”

“You always come up with the perfect plan,” Amanda murmured, still entranced by the image. Suddenly, Julie tensed.

“Shh, did you hear that? I swear, I heard something in the other room,” Julie whispered, her senses on high alert. They strained to listen, picking up faint tiptoeing sounds at irregular intervals, accompanied by a peculiar, raspy breath. Something—or someone—was in the drawing-room.

“What do we do?” Amanda whispered anxiously. “We can’t leave without passing through that room! Oh, Julie!” They listened again, the sounds drawing closer to the door. It was a soft, stealthy step, unmistakably approaching. Then, a chair scraped against the floor, as if accidentally disturbed. Both girls froze in terror, feeling trapped.

As they stared in fearful fascination, the door creaked open further, revealing a dim, gray figure gliding into view. Julie grabbed Amanda, a mixture of relief and nervous laughter escaping her lips.

“It’s Max!” Julie exclaimed, her tension releasing in a nervous laugh.