Free Crandalls' Castle by Betty Ren Wright Page B

close.”
    â€œI’m not afraid of wasps,” Charli said. Now she really did feel sick.
    â€œWell, then.”
    Of course! Wonderful, brave Sophia wasn’t afraid of wasps, or of ghosts, either. Charli started up the stairs, her feet so heavy it was hard to lift them.
    â€œI’ll go, too,” Sophia offered, suddenly at her side. “I haven’t seen the upstairs.”
    Charli let out her breath. She climbed faster to keep up with Sophia’s quick steps. When they reached the landing, Sophia started to turn right, but Charli grabbed her wrist with sweating fingers.
    â€œNot there,” she whispered, terrified that the singing might start again. “It’s this way, fourth window from the end.”
    They walked down the hall together, glancing through doorways. There were two windows in each room, spreading sunlight across the bare floors in dusty rectangles. When they reached the third bedroom, they could see the small black bodies that darted between the panes.
    Sophia crossed to the window. “There’s a nest all right,” she said. “A big one. Want to see?”
    â€œNo!” Charli said. “I’ll tell Uncle Will.” She ran back to the stairs, her eyes on the closed door at the other end of the hall.
    It wasn’t until she reached the front door that she realized she was alone. Sophia was still on the top step, looking from side to side and frowning.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Charli asked. “What are you looking at?”
    Sophia gave her head a little shake, as if she were waking from a dream. She started down the steps. “I’m not looking at anything,” she said. “What is there to see?”

Chapter Thirteen
    SOPHIA’S JOURNAL
    Charli nagged all the way home from the Castle. I take bigger steps than she does, but she ran to keep up. “You did see something upstairs. What was it? Why did you get that look on your face?”
    I said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” but she didn’t believe me. And she could get me in trouble, the way Linda Wagner did.
    â€œWhat do you think I saw?” I tried to make it sound like a joke. “Besides a dusty hallway.”
    â€œA ghost,” she said. “I bet you saw a ghost.”
    â€œWell, I didn’t,” I told her. “What’s wrong with you, anyway? If you go around telling people the house is haunted, you’ll make your uncle feel bad. He loves that place, in case you haven’t noticed.”
    â€œUncle Will wouldn’t care,” she said. “Dan says Uncle Will thinks people would pay more to spend the night in a haunted house.”
    She’s probably right, I thought. Will Crandall would welcome a ghost. But I know he wouldn’t welcome being told Crandalls’ Castle is an awful place. He’d say, “What makes you say a thing like that, Sophia?” And I’d say, “When I went upstairs I had the same feeling I had the day my school burned in Sacramento.” Then he’d say, “What are you talking about?” I’d have to tell him.…
    I don’t want to think about it. The way he’d look at me, wondering what kind of nut he had staying at his house! The way Lilly would look at me—like, why is this weird, ungrateful kid trying to make my Will unhappy?
    â€œJust leave me out of it,” I told Charli. “I don’t like ghost stories.” We had reached the woods at the end of the Crandalls’ yard. I rushed ahead and up the back steps before she could ask any more questions.
    I wanted to come up here to my bedroom and think for a while, before I had to talk to anyone else, but no luck. Lilly was at the stove, stirring tomato sauce with a long spoon and helping Mickey stand up with the other hand. I grabbed him just as he was about to fall.
    â€œSophia to the rescue as usual,” Lilly said. “You look tired, dear. Did Will work