The Old Willis Place

sat back and studied the checkers lined up on the board, so orderly, so perfect. Had the men put the bodies in the hearse? Was Georgie still watching? I shouldn't have left him there all by himself in the snow. I should have made him come with Lissa and me.
    "It's the children in the cellar, isn't it?" she asked. "You're thinking about them."
    Lissa jiggled the board accidentally, and I nudged a checker back into position.
    Undiscouraged by my silence, Lissa moved closer to me. "How did you keep it a secret so long?"
    I sighed. "There was no one to tell."
    "Your parents—you could have told them."
    "I wish to heaven I could have." I slid away from Lissa and gazed out the window across the room. Bare trees blew in the wind. Georgie was out there, small and thin, his hair full of leaves and feathers, watching, waiting.
    "I can't believe your parents are as strict as you say." Lissa slumped on the couch and propped her feet on the coffee table, further disturbing the order of the checkerboard.
    Silently I leaned forward and moved the pieces back to the center of their squares.
    "Oh, Diana." Lissa sighed. "Sometimes I feel like I don't know you at all."
    "You don't," I said.
    She stared at me, speechless for once.
    Mr. Morrison chose that moment to open the door. MacDuff followed him inside, wagging his tail, shaking snow off his fur.
    Lissa jumped to her feet, scattering the checkers in her haste.This time I ignored them. What did it matter, anyway?
    "Did they take the children away?" she asked.
    Mr. Morrison blew his nose. "They've made arrangements to bury them at Mount Holly."
    "Do their parents know?" Lissa asked.
    Mr. Morrison shook his head. "It's such a sad situation. The children's parents are both dead. No uncles, no aunts, no living relatives."
    I got to my feet, my chest tight, my legs weak. "They're dead?" I asked. "Mother and Daddy both?"
    Lissa looked at me oddly, but I was too upset to wonder why. All I could think of was what her father had just said, his voice so calm, his manner so ordinary.
    "That's what the police told me," he said. "They're buried at Mount Holly. At least the children will be with them now."
    I covered my face with my hands. All this time, I'd pictured Mother and Daddy alive somewhere, waiting for news of us. I hadn't considered the weeks, the months, the years as they'd rolled past. As Georgie had said, it was hard to keep track of time without birthdays and holidays.
    I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Now, now, Diana," Mr. Morrison said softly. "I don't blame you for crying, but it happened long ago. Try to think of it as a story you read in a book."
    "You don't understand," I whispered. At that moment I wanted him to put his arms around me as if I were his child, his daughter. I wanted him to comfort me, to stroke my hair. I wanted to tell him everything about Georgie and me and Miss Lilian and the terrible thing that happened to us. I wanted him to know who those bodies belonged to. Instead, I shrugged his hand off and edged away from him, closer to the door, closer to escape. "Its not a story,"I said. "It's true."
    Lissa eyed me solemnly, full of curiosity, but for once she had no questions.
    "Of course it's true," Mr. Morrison said, beginning to sound uncomfortable. "I was only trying—"
    "I know," I said. "It's okay." I'd reached the door. My hand was on the knob. I turned it.
    "Don't leave, Diana," Mr. Morrison said. "I'll fix you tea, hot chocolate—"
    "Dad." Lissa took her father by the arm. "I think Diana wants to go home."
    With MacDuff between them, Mr. Morrison and Lissa stood in the doorway and watched me leave. "Find Georgie," Mr. Morrison called. "Bring him back here. We can watch a video. Eat supper. I make a great vegetarian chili."
    "No," I said. "I'm sorry. I can't."
    I turned my back on the open doorway and the warmth inside and ran across the field toward the woods.

Chapter 17
    I found Georgie in the cave with Nero, huddled under a pile of blankets, his dirty face tear-streaked.
    "Georgie, Georgie." I threw myself down beside him and held him tight. "What did you see? What did you hear?"
    He cuddled close to me, as much in need of comfort as I was. "They came outside with the gurney," he whispered. "They'd zipped us—our bodies—into black bags. Oh, Diana, the bags were so small. I guess all they found were—"
    "Hush." I covered his mouth with my hand. "I told you not to watch."
    Georgie pushed my hand away. "You have to hear this part, Diana. It's about