“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Even when you have a nightmare?”

Yesterday’s belligerent denial was gone. Rae grimaced. “I guess not.”

“Besides, no bathroom that I can see.” Although perhaps it was through the next door.

Rae picked up a pair of binoculars from a shelf in the alcove and pointed them outside the window. “Look! A bird nest in the top of one of the oaks.” Her voice brightened. “There are babies!”

“Let me see!” Kellen grabbed another set of binoculars and crawled into the window seat. These binoculars were heavy, and with her uncooperative hand, it took her a few minutes to gain control and focus on the tree. She found the nest, then the gawping mouths of the infant birds, and then she focused on the mother, tearing bits of meat into shreds to feed them. “Is that an eagle?”

“I don’t know. We could look it up online—”

“There are books on the bookshelves!” Kellen slid out of the window seat, grabbed the first book on bird watching she could find, and shoved it at Rae. “Look it up!”

Rae was interested enough not to grumble, and used the binoculars and the book, back and forth, until she could shout, “It’s a peregrine falcon!”

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one before.” Kellen wandered over to a wall of cupboards. “That’s wonderful!”

“They’re a fully protected raptor.”

“It’s a beautiful bird. I’m glad it’s protected.” Kellen opened one door and found a closet filled with art supplies. “Someone painted up here!”

“Yes, Mother, it looks very well painted.” Rae was dreaming; she didn’t want to be interrupted with prosaic matters.

“I meant art.”

Rae didn’t react, so Kellen closed the door and snooped further. The other doors revealed old Christmas decorations, stacks of notebooks and pens, a well-stocked linen closet, and finally a recessed door that looked as if it went into the other part of the attic.

Luna slipped off the cushions and came to Kellen’s side, sat in front of the door and wagged her tail as if expecting Kellen to open it.

Kellen turned the cut glass knob.

The door was locked.

Luna looked up at her as if to say, Come on!

“I’ll see if I can find a key,” Kellen told her.

Rae had followed Luna, and when the door failed them, she went to the desk and rifled through the drawers. “Somebody up here wrote a lot of letters.”

Kellen hurried over and took the pile Rae held. “Three-cent stamps! Postmarked in the 1930s and ’40s.” She wanted to open them, but it seemed vaguely rude.