Without moving too much I tried to see what was behind me and a book shot to the floor. I must have somehow dislodged the book when I turned around and the edge of the spine caught me in the back. Feeling somewhat foolish I picked up the book and shoved it back on the shelf.
Hearing a rapping sound, like a bird pecking on glass, I glanced at the window. Rain made rivulets down it. I was glad I wouldn't have to walk home.
I carried the scrapbook to the head of the main staircase and sat down on the top step glancing down the long dim hall on the other side of the stairs. The boy's bedrooms were down that hall. I'd check that out later.
Placing my left shoulder against the wall I started to read more of the unbelievable story.
A while later I heard my sister-in-law rattling around in the sewing room but I didn't think anything of it. I was immersed in the article complete with several pictures of Franklin the man and Frances the woman.
Footsteps shuffled along the hall on the other side of the wall that I rested against and stopped right behind me. Assuming it was Ann I said, "This is an amazing story," without turning around.
When Ann didn't say anything I quick-glanced over my shoulder.
Shock riveted through me like a jolt of electricity!