‘What is this? Could it be another key for the bedroom?’ she wondered.
Stretching in so far that her arm ached, Novella’s fingers just about hooked around the item. Breathing out, she pulled it from its hiding place and it fell onto the bed heavily, bringing a key on a blue ribbon with it.
Novella stood and looked at what had fallen out – utter horror on her face.
‘A pistol’ she whispered, ‘what was Mama doing with a pistol in her bed? And this must be the key to her bedroom.’
She held up the pistol by its blue ribbon. It was then that she remembered that her mother had once confided in her that her father had made her sleep with a pistol under her pillow whenever he went away for long periods of time.
‘Of course. Papa was always worried that robbers would break into the house when he
