or something valuable, and when they didnât find anything they decided to trash the place.â
âMaybe.â Jennie returned the box to its place and found the eight-by-ten portrait of her father on the floor. The photo lay face down, the glass shattered. Rage tore through her like a thunderstorm. âIâll kill him,â Jennie muttered. âIf I ever get my hands on the pig that did this, Iâllâ¦â
Lisa laid a hand on Jennieâs shoulder. âOh, Jennie, Iâm sorry. Itâs bad enough to find out your dadâs really dead, but now this.â
âI know this sounds strange, but itâs almost like whoever broke in here was deliberately trying to hurt me. Like he stood in my room and asked himself: âWhat can I do to destroy Jennie McGrady?ââ
âI canât believe anyone could be that cruel. No one could hate you that much.â
âI donât know.â
After cleaning up the broken glass and removing the photo from its bent frame, Jennie took it over to the window seat. The photo was still intact except for a wrinkle running down one side and a couple of small glass punctures near the top. She could reframe it.
By the time the girls finished cleaning Jennieâs room, the rest of the house looked almost normal. They managed to get everything picked up and straightened by the time Michael and Nick arrived. Mom had been working hard and seemed to have recovered from her initial shock, but when Michael came in, she fell apart again.
After telling Michael about the break-in, and making sure Mom and Jennie were okay, Aunt Kate, Gram, and Lisa left.
âJennie,â Gram reminded as she gave her a final hug, âdonât forget to set your alarm. Weâll be leaving at four in the morning for the airport. Our flight leaves at sixÂthirty.â
Jennie stared at Gram, wondering how she could act so normal when their entire world had been turned upside down and inside out. Any second now, Jennie was sure sheâd wake up and discover that for the last three days sheâd been having the worldâs longest nightmare.
The next morning Jennie woke up in a cold sweat. Sheâd had the dream again where she met her father on the deserted wharf.
Jennie grabbed a cotton blanket from the end of her bed and threw it over her shoulders. By the time she reached her window seat and opened the blind, her terror had faded to confusion.
âWhy doesnât he just leave me alone?â she murmured. Jennie rarely dreamed about her father, especially not like that.
She left the window seat to get her wallet and retrieve the snapshot sheâd gotten from Debbie Cole in Floridaâthe one dated after her fatherâs disappearance. The threeÂby-five photo had certainly brought its share of trouble. J.B. had taken one look at it and turned white. The more Jennie thought about the photo the more upset she became. Had Debbie really made a mistake on the date?
Did the dream mean her father was alive?
Oh, no you donât, McGrady. You are not going to go through all of that business about Dad being alive again. Itâs about time you grew up and faced facts. Heâs dead and heâs not coming back. Ever.
Jennie stuffed the photo back in her wallet. She didnât know why she even bothered worrying about it. Mom was right. It was time to get on with her life. Jennie had more important things to do than chase childish fantasies.
For one thing she intended to find out who had ransacked their houseâher room. She sank back into the cushions and closed her eyes. Had it been a random burglary? If so, why hadnât they taken anything? Were they looking for something specific? If so, what? It didnât make sense.
Unfortunately, that mystery would have to wait until she and Lisa got home from the cruise.
The cruise. In a half hour, Lisa, Gram, and J.B. would be coming by to pick her up. âOkay,â Jennie