Amy felt her stomach sink. She had to be sure before she went all the way up there.

“Are you positive? Could they be anywhere else?”

“Sorry, honey!” called Mom. Amy could hear the little bit of a smile in her voice. “If you can wait a half hour, I’ll come up with you once I’m done folding your laundry.”

“It’s fine,” Amy called back, feeling her face blush with embarrassment. She was ticked off, both by her mother and herself. Mom obviously thought it was funny that she didn’t want to go up to the attic. She’d never say it, of course—she’d say it was sweet, in that grown-up way that meant you were a baby. Aw, you like to dance around your room to the Hamilton soundtrack? That’s SWEET.

Then again, here she was, dreading the attic. Being the baby.

She went back upstairs to Dad’s office and found him hunched over his desktop. When she came in the door, he thumbed off one of his headphones.

“Heard you and your mother talking,” he said. “Want me to go up there instead?”

“I’m capable of going up to the attic, thanks,” Amy told her father. There was no way she’d give her parents the satisfaction of her being scared now. She was a young scientist, not some sweet little girl. She held out her hand. “I just need your flashlight.”

Dad fished around in his desk and found his high-powered “tactical” flashlight, the one with the rubber padding on the handle that was supposed to make him feel like a Navy SEAL. Amy thought it seemed kind of ridiculous but had to admit it had a really high-powered beam.

“Keep your eyes peeled for Coop and Hutch,” Dad advised. “You know how they like to sneak up there to hunt mice, though I still don’t know how they get in there. And watch the ladder on your way up. That spring is sensitive, and a hard bounce—”

“Will trap me up there,” said Amy, already leaving. She’d heard the warning a thousand times before, but it had never happened once.

Classic paranoid Dad.

Amy walked to the middle of the hallway and looked up at the ceiling. She eyed the square outline and the long piece of cord dangling down.

It’s just a room in the house, she told herself. No big deal. So it’s a little dark and dusty. So it has a bug or two. Bugs are just animals. You love animals.