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Page 213
softly, "Where did Myra keep the journals?"
"In the box under her bed, of course. When we were young she took them out lots of evenings to read to us."
Abby's breath quickened. "Where was her bedroom?"
"The hallway upstairs, first room on the right," Grace said. "But don't get excited. That room's been cleaned many a time since Myra's been gone. There's nothing under that bed now except the dustballs that've accumulated since the last time our cleaning girl swept."
Abby refused to let her spirits plummet. "Where might the box have been put, Jess?"
But the aged, cloudy eyes had shuttered over once more. "I'm sleepy, Grace," the soft voice managed. "Is it time for my nap yet?"
"Of course, Jessie." Grace shot an angry look toward Abby, then rushed to help her charge turn to lie comfortably on her settee.
"We'll start upstairs," Abby murmured, motioning to Hannah to follow.
The room that had apparently once been Myra's was nearly empty, except for an antique bed and matching dresser. The journals were not, of course, on the bare wood floor under the bed. They were not in this room.
Nor were they in any of the other unoccupied rooms on that floor. Abby went downstairs for permission to search Jess's and Grace's rooms, but Hannah and she found no journals in either.
They began sifting through the attic, a large, single room that spanned the entire top floor of

 
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