Home Invasion by Monique Polak

I’d seen Mr. and Mrs. Levesque arguing, and Mr. Levesque’s gambling problem. Maybe there was no such thing as a perfect family.
    I had to stop looking at the photos when I heard Patsy and her mom coming up from the basement. This time my best bet seemed to be the utility closet. I sneaked in and crouched down between the bucket and brooms.
    â€œPatsy, how about helping me mop the floor?” Mrs. Levesque asked. My heart started beating hard inside my chest. What would Patsy think if she found me? I inched back a little further into the closet. There wasn’t much room, but I managedto hide behind what looked like a painter’s drop cloth.
    â€œI wanted to go over to Tasha’s,” Patsy muttered.
    â€œWe’ll just do the kitchen floor then.”
    I got another whiff of Patsy’s soapy scent when she reached into the closet for the bucket. I was curious to hear what else Patsy and her mom would have to say to each other, but with the kitchen tap running, I couldn’t make out their voices.
    I let myself rest on a corner of the drop cloth. Between getting caught by the police and dealing with Clay, things had been pretty crazy the last couple of days. Who’d have guessed a guy would finally get to relax inside somebody else’s closet?
    I must’ve dozed off, because when I woke up, I had a crick in my neck. Uh-oh, I thought, what’s Clay gonna think? It felt like I’d been asleep for a while. I saw that the mop and bucket were back at the front of the closet. I was about to push open the door when I heard voices.
    I pressed my ear to the door to hear better.
    â€œWho are you?” Mrs. Levesque was asking. Her voice sounded higher than usual.
    â€œJust do what I say,” a gruff voice insisted. “I’ve got a knife.”
    Yikes, I thought, what’s going on here? I maneuvered my body so that I got a little closer to the front of the closet.
    â€œDo what he says, Annette.” It was Mr. Levesque. From the sound of it, he was standing in the hallway, just outside the utility closet.
    It had to be the home invader. The real home invader. If my heart had raced before, you should have heard it now. For a moment, I was afraid the others might hear it.
    â€œSit right here.”
    â€œDon’t hurt me!” Mrs. Levesque whimpered as the home invader dragged her to the other side of the living room.
    â€œListen to him, Annette.” Mr. Levesque’s voice sounded a little farther away now. He was probably following his wife into the living room.
    Where was Patsy? Had she left the house while I was asleep?
    I thought about leaping out of the closet right then. But the home invader had a knife. I had only one advantage: that he didn’t know I was there. For now, the best thing to do was wait — and try to come up with a plan.
    I heard a loud tearing noise. It sounded like tape. He must be tying up the Levesques.
    â€œTell me where your valuables are and nobody will get hurt.”
    â€œM … my jewelry is in my n … nightstand; so is the c … cash,” Mrs. Levesque stammered.
    â€œWhat about laptops?”
    â€œI have one in my briefcase. It’s by the door,” Mr. Levesque said. “Over there.” I could tell he was doing his best to cooperate with the home invader.
    I heard the home invader snap open the briefcase. I thought he’d go upstairs for the jewelry, but instead he went back over to the Levesques. I heard muffled noises and the sound of more tape. “Don’t …” Mrs. Levesque said in a pleading voice.
    Now I had managed to inch close enough to the front of the closet that I could open it a crack and see out. I pressed gently on the door so they wouldn’t hear me. Mrs. Levesque’s eyes were bulging with fear. I thought she was about to cry, but then her husband gave her a stern look. I watched as he mouthed the words “Stay calm!”
    All I could see of the home