I thought fast. “Why did you whisper? Why not just yell?”
She sighed dramatically. “The chalk broke the loop. For five minutes. So hurry—ask me something important.”
“Hello?” I whispered back.
That afternoon, I grabbed a piece of chalk from the sidewalk and wrote on my bedroom wall:
Who or what wrote “TRAPPED”? List two possible explanations—one realistic and one imaginative. My heart hammered. I wasn’t scared. I was seen . Someone—something—knew I was here. For the first time since we moved to this gray city, I didn’t feel invisible. Holt Mcdougal Literature Interactive Reader Grade 7
The silver light began to flicker.
It wasn’t words, exactly. It was more like the memory of a voice. A soft, hurried hush, like someone on the other side was trying to tell me a secret but couldn’t find the right letters. I thought fast
I ran upstairs and pressed the photo against the wall. “Eleanor?” I said. “Are you the one whispering?”
Do you agree with Leo’s dad? Is the wall just “old,” or is there something more? Why might Leo think differently? “The chalk broke the loop