The Secret of Sentinel Rock Read Online Free Page A

her nose and smiled. “One of the best gossips too.”
    “Now, Liz. Let’s not start gossiping about her . She has a big kind heart.”
    “Yeah, to go with her huge body.” Aunt Liz stretched her hands apart in exaggeration of Mrs. Barkley’s width and ­laughed.
    “Liz, stop that. We have to set an example for Emily.” As Kate admonished her sister, her face crinkled in ­mirth.
    Emily giggled, recalling Mrs. Barkley’s portly frame. She always wore dresses with enormous flowers printed all over them. She wheezed as she walked, and snorted with loud laughter at her own raucous ­jokes.
    Kate and Liz’s talk switched to other members of the community, and Emily thought again of her afternoon with Emma. Although she’d been scared about being stuck in the past, she was curious to learn more about her experience. Had it been real? There was only one way to find out. First thing tomorrow she’d try to find Emma ­again.

Chapter Three

    Emily stretched and yawned , slowly opening her eyes. Through her open window she glimpsed patches of morning sky each time a breeze fluttered the lacy curtains. She could hear the distant cawing of crows, while nearby a robin sang from somewhere in the tall caragana ­hedge.
    “Emily, are you awake yet?” her mother called from down ­below.
    “I’ll be right there,” she shouted back. Emily knew she’d better get up soon, or her mother would come up to roust her out. And Kate would be growly if she had to climb the two flights of stairs to the attic bedroom just to hustle Emily ­along.
    Suddenly remembering her encounter with Emma from the day before, Emily threw back the covers and hopped out of bed. Crawling onto the broad window ledge, she peered across the meadow towards the outcropping of rocks. She couldn’t see any sign of the other girl, but then realized she probably wouldn’t from here. She’d have to go to the rock and somehow find a way to slip into the past again. The idea half scared, half excited her, spurring her into a frenzy of activity. Would she be able to find Emma today? Or had she just imagined everything the day ­before?
    Emily yanked on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt she’d left draped over the trunk at the foot of her bed. Then she raced downstairs into the kitchen where her mother was busy buttering ­toast.
    When Emily detected only the faint lingering aroma of coffee, she knew her mother had been up for ages. Her dark hair, flecked with grey, was tied back, although little wisps had escaped, and she was wearing her ­“let’s-­get-­the-­job-­done-­right-­now” sweatsuit. The kitchen was glistening and ­tidy.
    Kate looked up and smiled as Emily slid onto a chair at the table. “My, you got down here quick this morning,” she said, setting the plate of toast in front of her daughter. “Did you have a good sleep, Em?”
    Emily nodded. She could hardly wait to finish eating and head outdoors. Then she decided perhaps it would be best to act casual. She knew if she seemed overanxious to leave the house her mother would become suspicious and it would take too long to explain everything. Besides, her mother wouldn’t believe her story ­anyway.
    “You certainly needed a good rest. These past couple of weeks have been tough for you, haven’t they?”
    A pang of sadness clutched at Emily’s middle. Shifting the crumbs around on her plate with her fingers, she thought again of her grandmother’s funeral the day before. Suddenly the toast seemed dry, and Emily found it hard to ­swallow.
    “Your dad said to say ­good-­bye. You were still sleeping when he left at six,” Kate said, pouring Emily a glass of ­milk.
    Emily washed the lumps of toast down, and nodded in ­response.
    “This morning we have to run into Glenavon and get some boxes. We have to start packing away your grandmother’s things,” her mother said. “Gerald Ferguson should be here soon to pick us up.”
    “Aw, Mom. Do we have to do it today?” Emily