A Perfect Storm Read Online Free PDF

at her book. “Because I know you’re not there. You can’t be. I’m just imagining you. So please, go away, okay?”
    I stood there awkwardly, wondering what to say next. She hadn’t started writing again. I could see that her knuckles had grown white, gripping the pen.
    Then a shadow moved across the window. I turned toward the opposite wall to see what—or who—was casting the shadow. The weak, late afternoon sun wasstill bright enough to make it hard to see the dark figure standing in the shadows near the big wardrobe. Was it a man? A woman? A spirit of some sort? All I could see was that it was wearing some odd hat. And then the dream faded and I woke up.
    My bedroom was dim but not completely dark. I could see that outside there was an almost-full moon. Lily was breathing regularly next to me. The clock said 4:14. Once again, though, it felt bitter cold. Was the window open a crack?
    Moving as quietly as I could, I slid down to the end of my bed and stepped onto the floor. Lily grumbled something, then turned and went back to sleep.
    I tiptoed over to the window. It was wide open. Had I forgotten to close it? As I looked outside at the moonlit yard below, I could feel how calm everything was. Not a leaf stirred. There was no wind. All was deathly still. And outside, the air felt weirdly warm. Much warmer than in the room. I closed the window anyway. Tiptoed back to my bed and burrowed under the covers. And the next thing I knew, it was morning.

Chapter 5
    â€œHey, girls! Get up! It’s almost ten!”
    I opened my eyes. Sunlight streamed through the windows. Lily was sitting up in bed. I could smell bacon cooking downstairs. And coffee. Even though I’m not a coffee drinker, I still think the smells of bacon and coffee are two of the best smells in the world.
    Lily slid off the trundle bed and padded over to the window. She shoved it open, raised the screen, and stuck her nose outside.
    â€œWow, it’s bizarrely warm outside,” she said.
    The chill I’d felt in the middle of the night was gone. My dream didn’t seem quite as eerie by light of day. Now I wished I’d paid more attention to what the other Sara had been writing. And who the spirit was in the room, if in fact it had even been a spirit.
    â€œI smell bacon,” said Lily. “Do you think it’s for us?”
    â€œI’m sure it is. My dad is on a health kick and only eats oatmeal for breakfast these days,” I said. “And Lady Azura would never be up this early.”
    We got dressed quickly and were soon down in the kitchen, where my dad was just pronging the last piece of bacon from the pan and laying it out onto a paper-towel-lined plate.
    â€œMorning, lazy ones,” he said, plunking down the plate of bacon and giving my ponytail a playful tug. “Eat up. Change of plans.”
    Lily was pulling a couple of juice glasses—she knew where everything belonged in our kitchen, just as I did in hers—but she paused and turned toward my dad.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” she asked.
    â€œThe storm. It’s not being downgraded after all. It’s going to remain a hurricane, and it looks like it might be a direct hit on New Jersey tomorrow. They’re saying around midafternoon sometime.”
    Lily and I exchanged looks. My stomach did a little flip-flop.
    â€œSo, not to be a party pooper,” my dad continued, “but Lily’s mom called to say Lily needs to come home to babysit as soon as you two have had breakfast. Sheand your dad need to get to the grocery store and the hardware store to stock up on supplies in case the power goes out.”
    â€œCan I help her?” I asked. Somehow I didn’t feel like being by myself to stew about a huge storm if I could help it.
    â€œSorry, kiddo,” said my dad, as he dried a pot from the drainer. “I’ll need you around here to help me storm-proof this old place.”
    I