I hadn't anticipated this, but no, I guess I should have. Now we had to hide, just like me and Aunt Karen did that final night.
But ---
"So we're just going to hide?" Janette asked, disappointed.
"We'll see what we can do. It can't hurt to stay out of sight for a while," I answered, looking at the four corners of the set, thinking how tiny our hiding place really was in comparison. It could be worse, I guessed, but it could also be so much better. "It's better than nothing."
Janette nodded. She squeezed the blanket even tighter against her small body, taking a deep breath and then beginning to scoot further into the tangle of blankets, tucking herself as far into the corner as she could. "I'm getting so tired," she whined. "I just want to go to sleep."
I nodded. I understood. I woke up this morning, knowing Dad was coming, and was so excited -- and I must have been really tired because I hadn't even registered that Janette wasn't there. Not until I got downstairs, that is.
Once Dad had seen me -- and me him -- I hadn't wanted to stop and talk. I just wanted to hurry upstairs to say good-bye, but then I found myself hanging out in the kitchen, wondering if he had kissed Janette when he'd taken her to bed, what I would do if I couldn't find her, if he had done anything to her. And the next thing I knew, I was saying good-bye to my dad and getting ready to hide.
"How long do you think we have been here before Dad finds us?" Janette asked, her own thoughts spilling out now. "Maybe we missed him somehow."
"I think we're safe for a while, anyway," I answered, watching Mom walk out the front door. "Mom thinks you just stayed in your room last night and are still there. So nobody's going to search the house."
"But don't they know the ceiling will cave in? I mean, they all went off with that geezer to be with his dog. They can't all believe the ceiling is OK."
"I guess not," I sighed. I felt the same way about the ceiling as Janette did, but I knew it was weak. Daddy had scraped it clear of plaster as best he could, but it was only a matter of time before it all fell to pieces. I just didn't know how much time.
"So they'll definitely search the attic?"
I sighed again. "They might. As far as they know, we're still up there." I thought for a moment, hoping that we should consider exploring the attic, that maybe we should take a look at the place. But we hadn't gotten very far up there. Before we'd lost our freedom there, they'd knocked down the partition. Mom and everyone else had forgotten that there was a door up there, because in the bottom area -- in the room with the plastic crates that everyone went to look at -- there was a door. It had no handle, but Dad had put hinges on the side so that it looked like a real door.