Free SHAKESPEARE’ SECRET by Elise Broach

England. She flipped through it, skimming the pictures until she discovered a stark portrait of Anne Boleyn: dark, serious eyes, black hair sweeping neatly away from her forehead. She looked proud and bold. Her face showed no hint of the terrible things that lay ahead of her.
    Below the portrait, Hero found the image of the falcon. It looked exactly like the etching on the pendant, but now she could see the details. Eagerly sheread the caption: “Crest of Anne Boleyn, Marquess of Pembroke. This title and its emblem were awarded to Anne Boleyn by the king in 1532, to placate her during the lengthy debate over the annulment of Henry’s first marriage.”
    Hero could see that the bird was standing near a bunch of roses, gripping a scepter, just as her father had drawn it. Mrs. Roth would be so excited about this! She stuffed the book in her backpack for her next visit.
    At last, a few hours of uninterrupted diamond hunting. Hero drifted through the still house. Where should she begin? The bookcases? Each one of the downstairs rooms had some kind of built-in cupboard or cabinet, with flowery carvings and scrollwork in the trim. Unfortunately, Hero’s mother had been sufficiently organized in her unpacking to fill most of them already—with books, knickknacks, delicate pieces of crystal.
    Hero was determined to be thorough. She kept reminding herself that the house had already been searched once by the police, and the diamond had been hidden well enough to escape their notice. A diamond so big wouldn’t be easy to conceal. Maybe it was tucked under something or inside something, some kind of hole or hollow.
    In the living room, Hero pulled stacks of books off the shelves and checked for loose boards. In the dining room, she slid her fingers along the inside edges of the corner china cupboard, trying not to bang the slender handles of her mother’s teacups. She checked for knotholes, mouse holes, grooves in the wood, soft spots in the plaster. By the middle of the afternoon, she’d examined every nook in the downstairs rooms, and with rising frustration, scoured the upstairs medicine cabinets as well. She found nothing but a pen cap, a nickel, and a chipped orange button.
    Tired and bored, Hero thudded down the back steps into the bright sunlight. She stood in the driveway, picking at the splinters under her fingernails and glancing around. What if the diamond wasn’t in the house, after all? She was just considering the leafy borders of the backyard when she heard the low rumble and scrape of a skateboard. She looked up to see Danny Cordova standing at the end of her driveway.
    â€œHey, Netherfield,” Danny called to her. With a quick pivot, he flipped the skateboard into the air and caught it under his arm.
    â€œHi,” Hero answered, hoping it didn’t sound like an invitation. She flinched as Danny started down the driveway.
    â€œI was at Ben’s,” he told her, as if he expected her to be interested. When Hero said nothing, he added, “Ben and Aaron are fighting again. Maybe you should go down there and break it up.”
    Hero scowled at him, but his easy grin made it hard not to smile. Triss was right. There was something about him.
    â€œSo what are you doing?” he asked.
    â€œNothing.” Hero scuffed her sneaker in the loose gravel. “Just hanging out. My parents are in D.C., and Beatrice is over at a friend’s house.”
    Danny was watching her steadily. “You’re looking for it, aren’t you?” he said.
    Hero flushed and shook her head. But then, unbelievably, she heard herself say, “Yes.”
    She had no idea why she said it. She didn’t trust Danny. She didn’t even know him. And she was trying so hard to keep the diamond a secret from her own family, the people she did know and trust. But it was something about the way he looked at her, the friendly interest in his eyes. It had been a long time since any kid