CATHY. Then he’ll find out the truth. Finally.

CHRISTOPHER. No, he won’t.

CORRINE. Christopher’s right. Don’t worry about that.

CATHY. I’m not worried that he’ll find out. I hope he’ll find out.

CHRISTOPHER. What about Cory’s funeral, Momma?

CORRINE. It’s all been arranged.

CHRISTOPHER. We have to attend.

CORRINE [quickly]. No. That would only add to our trouble. Just . . . comfort each other. I’ll be back. You can’t even begin to imagine the act I have to put on in front of my father.

Corrine turns and slips out quickly.

CATHY. Just comfort each other?

CARRIE. I want Cory. Where’s Cory?

Christopher turns and starts pounding on his own head.

CATHY. Christopher!

He stops, takes a deep breath, and turns to her.

CHRISTOPHER. I have something to show you. First, calm her down.

Cathy caresses Carrie and sets her back on her bed.

Christopher crosses the attic and stands waiting. Cathy, crying, walks slowly to him.

CATHY. What is it?

Christopher reaches out and lifts the cage with Cory’s pet mouse. The mouse isn’t moving.

CATHY. Cory’s Mr. Mouse died, too. How ironic.

CHRISTOPHER. No, how logical.

CATHY. What do you mean?

CHRISTOPHER [holding the cage closer to her]. See the white powder around him? I scraped off the sugar on our doughnuts. It’s arsenic.

CATHY [not understanding]. What?

CHRISTOPHER. The doughnuts Momma brought us every day had small doses of arsenic on them. The accumulation killed Cory, and when I gave the mouse a large dose, it killed the mouse quickly.

Cathy can’t speak.

CHRISTOPHER. That’s not all, Cathy. I was about to tell you everything just before she came in.

CATHY [through tears]. What, Christopher?

CHRISTOPHER. Our famous grandfather, the one she left to see and for whom she is putting on a great act right now?

CATHY. What?

CHRISTOPHER. He’s been dead for nearly ten days.

CATHY. Ten days! How did you learn all this?

CHRISTOPHER. I hid in the shadows and listened to one maid talking to another.

CATHY. If he died, why would Momma leave us up here?

CHRISTOPHER. Think about what I told you about the clause in the will.

Cathy looks at the dead mouse and shakes her head.

CATHY. No. This can’t be true.

Christopher lowers his head.

CATHY. Grandmother Olivia was helping her do this to us?

CHRISTOPHER. Maybe. Our grandmother hates the sight of us, but murder is still a big sin. I’m not sure. All I do know is that I don’t want to stay to find out . . . anything.

CATHY. My God, Christopher. Do you realize what you’re saying?

CHRISTOPHER. Yes.

CATHY. Do we have enough money?

CHRISTOPHER. Not as much as I would like but enough for now.

Christopher puts down the cage and holds up a plastic sandwich bag with white powder in it.

CHRISTOPHER. I put the rest of the poison in here. Sort of an insurance policy.

CATHY. Let’s just take it to the police.

CHRISTOPHER. I thought of that, but then you and Carrie and I will end up in some foster home, probably separated.