Can You Keep a Secret? by R. L. Stine

thought of something.” He grabbed my arm. “The security cameras.”
    I squinted at him. “The what?”
    “Mac installed those security cameras, remember? Because so many people were dumping dead dogs in the cemetery at night. Maybe one of the cameras—”
    “Will show us who stole the briefcase.” I finished his sentence for him. “Yes! Maybe one of the cameras was aimed in the right direction, and we can see who it was.”
    Eddie’s silvery eyes locked on mine. “I think we can check the recordings tomorrow after school. Mac said he was going to be away for a day or two.”
    “It’s a date,” I said. I started the car and headed for Eddie’s house.
    *   *   *
    Sophie sat up in bed the moment I stepped through our bedroom door. “Emmy? What’s up?” She rubbed her eyes. Her short black hair was matted to one side of her head. She brushed a hand through it.
    I sighed. I’d hoped she wouldn’t be awake. “Did I wake you up?”
    She shook her head. “I wasn’t really asleep. I was waiting for you.”
    I kicked off my sneakers and quickly changed into the silky blue nightshirt I’d left draped over my dresser that morning. Then I dropped onto the edge of my bed, suddenly feeling a heavy wave of weariness roll over my body. I yawned, my eyelids heavy.
    Sophie appeared wide awake now. “So where were you?”
    “With Eddie,” I said.
    “No. Really,” she insisted. “You never stay out past midnight on a school night. Where were you?”
    “Not your problem, Mom, ” I said nastily.
    Her head pulled back. I could see she was hurt. “Emmy, I’m your sister. You can’t tell me anything? Am I like an enemy or something?”
    I could feel the weariness pressing me down. And then another feeling. A feeling like I had to tell someone what was going on. A sudden strong urge to confide in Sophie. Not just because it would make me feel better to share the story with someone. But because it might help change Sophie’s harsh attitude.
    Sure, I had a guilty conscience. I felt terrible about Sophie’s resentment of me and her feeling that I didn’t care about her and didn’t want her to be close to me. But somehow, I never did anything to make anything better.
    Now, feeling so exhausted and so frightened, so totally unsure of what I should do, I decided to tell Sophie everything. I crossed the room to her bed, dropped down beside her, and began to talk, my eyes on the floor, my voice just above a whisper.
    I started to tell the story, and it just poured out of me. I told her again about the overnight campout in the Fear Street Woods. Yes, for some reason, I wanted to start at the very beginning.
    Then I told her what I kept from her the first time. I told her about finding the briefcase in the hollow tree, about how it was filled with thousands of dollars.
    “Oh, wow. Oh, wow.” Sophie kept shaking her head. “You’re not making this up?”
    “It’s all true,” I said. “It sounds crazy. I know it doesn’t sound real, but—”
    “Emmy, what did you do with the money?” she demanded. “You didn’t take it—did you?”
    “Yes,” I replied in a whisper. “We all decided. It … it was so much money, Sophie. It would change our lives forever. We took it.”
    Her face filled with confusion. “But … what did you do with it?”
    I told her everything. How we buried it in the pet cemetery. How I was afraid the robber was coming after us because Eddie carved our names on the tree. How someone dug up the briefcase and the money was gone.
    “I- I’m so frightened,” I stammered. “It was so exciting at first, Sophie. So thrilling to think about how we could spend thousands of dollars. But now … it’s a total nightmare, a dangerous, frightening nightmare.”
    I took a deep breath. My heart was pounding. The words had just spilled out of me, and now I felt more exhausted than relieved. Looking up, I glimpsed tears in Sophie’s eyes.
    She leaned across the bed and wrapped me in a hug.