Another pause followed, longer this time.
“She’s supposed to be there.”
“I need you to come to the house.”
“What happened?”
I looked through the pantry doorway at the letters.
“There are several things we should discuss in person.”
His tone changed.
Not into anger.
Into fear.
“Did he show you the room?”
I said nothing for a moment.
“You know about it?”
“I know it exists.”
“Then please come home, Mr. Granger.”
“I’m leaving now.”
He ended the call.
Silas had been listening from the doorway.
“He knows,” he said.
“He knows there’s a room.”
“He knows everything.”
The certainty in his voice sounded older than seven.
“We don’t know that yet.”
Silas pressed his lips together. He wanted to argue, but instead he walked into the living room and began moving newspapers from a chair.
“What are you doing?”
“Making somewhere for you to sit.”
