But below the surface, where dreams and nightmares dwell, Irene thought herself a lesser being, a persona non grata measured by her private and secret...scales of worthiness. Knowing a lot and being a popular girl seemed irreconcilable opposites to her.Irene had envied the bubble-headed bleach blonds in high school who seemed to treasure their cliquey in-groups, with their sororities and pajama party sleepovers. Irene had been on only one of those and was humiliated and scorned as a party-poop. Now was the time to see plots everywhere, maybe I was just upset because he was making time with Laurel. In any case I didn't find any secret plans or pictures of Chancellor Hitler.The kitchen was next, also clean. I didn't want to open a door and wake up a servant, so I was going to leave and call it a day. I was passing the door to the cellar when I heard a noise. I slowly opened the door. Luckily, it was well oiled and didn't squeak. I went down a step at a time and listened for another. More

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