Chicken Pox Panic, the by Beverly Lewis Page B

said goodbye. She ran out of the room. Carly raced after her.
    Abby slipped back under her quilt. “Quick, close the door” she said to Stacy.
    Stacy hurried to shut the door. “Good idea. We have to talk.”
    â€œWhat’s up?” asked Abby.
    â€œPromise you won’t tell?”
    Abby sat straight up in bed. A secret!
    â€œWell, do you?” Stacy unzipped the pocket on her jacket. She pulled out a piece of paper.
    Abby nodded. “I promise.”
    She felt like a jitterbox for sure.

FOUR
    Abby looked at Stacy’s paper.
    There was a tree with a bunch of branches and lines on it.
    Stacy pointed to the paper. “Do you know what this is?”
    Abby saw the names on the lines. “A family tree?”
    Stacy nodded. “It’s for school.”
    â€œWish I could go back soon,” said Abby. “Looks like fun.”
    â€œNot really” said Stacy.
    â€œHow come?”
    â€œI asked my mother, and she didn’t know very many names,” said Stacy, sadly.
    There were lots of blank lines in the branches on Stacy’s paper.
    Just then, someone knocked on the door.
    â€œShh!” said Stacy, sadly. She stuffed the paper into her pocket. “Don’t say a word about this.”
    Abby nodded. Then she called, “Who is it?”
    â€œShawn,” came the voice through the door. “Is Snow White in there?”
    â€œCome look for your dog if you want,” Abby said.
    The door opened. In came Shawn waving a dog collar. “Snow White—gone.”
    â€œAre you sure?” Abby said.
    â€œCarly say—time for Snow White to get chicken pox.” Shawn looked worried.
    Abby and Stacy giggled.
    Shawn looked puzzled. “Dogs get pox?”
    Abby smiled. “Definitely not.”
    â€œGood,” said Shawn, smiling.
    â€œMaybe Jimmy took Snow White for awalk. Look for him, and you might find your dog” Abby suggested.
    Shawn held up the dog collar. “Take dog walking without leash? Not smart.”
    â€œYou’re right,” Abby said. She thought about Snow White’s favorite place. “Look in the secret place, behind Carly’s closet,” she said. “Snow White likes to sleep there.”
    â€œGood thinking,” Shawn said. He turned to Stacy. “Stay there. Do not leave soon.” Then he ran out of the room.
    Stacy looked surprised. “I wonder what he wants.”
    Abby said, “Quick! Show me your family tree again.”
    Stacy unfolded the paper. “Hurry, I don’t want Shawn . . . uh, or anyone to see.”
    â€œWhy not?” Abby asked.
    â€œBecause, I think I’m adopted.” Stacy looked like she was going to cry.
    â€œYou do?” Abby said, surprised.
    Stacy played with the zipper on her jacket.“My mother can’t find my baby pictures. Not a single one.”
    Abby scratched the bumps on her feet. “Maybe they got lost when you moved here.”
    â€œThat was a long time ago,” said Stacy.
    â€œWait a minute!” Abby said. “You can’t be adopted. Everyone says your eyes look just like your dad’s.”
    â€œThat’s what my mother says. But I don’t remember him. He moved out years ago.”
    Abby took a deep breath. She wished Stacy’s father lived at home. Right here on Blossom Hill Lane—the best cul-de-sac ever!
    â€œI have an idea,” said Abby. “Look at your birth certificate. It will tell you the truth.”
    â€œI tried that,” Stacy said. “My mother can’t find it either.”
    Abby frowned. “Is it lost?”
    â€œI told you—I must be adopted,” Stacy said. “Just like your Korean brothers and Snow White and . . .” She stopped.
    Abby threw the covers off and scootedacross the bed. She put her arm around Stacy. “And what?”
    â€œAnd if it’s true, I don’t even know where I came from.”
    Abby grabbed a Kleenex box off