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Harley tried the door again, pushing with all his strength "It feels like that cabinet was slid in front of it," he said,

"She must have done it She's crazy Harley, really weird She thinks she has her dead son's soul in a jug!"

He nodded and started to shout louder He stopped and we listened: again, we heard nothing

"He couldn't sleep through all this" Harley rerily He pounded the door with his closed fist It was a thick door, like all of the seemed easily absorbed and smothered

"Why isn't he waking up and co to let us out?" Harley cried He pounded and pounded

"Harley," I said, noingto us?"

He looked atwith shock and fear Then he shook his head

"I don't know This is crazy You're right," he said

He continued to pound and pound until his hands were red I sat on a step and waited

"Why would they do this?" Harley muttered "Why?" he shouted at the door

I looked up at hihtened He looked terribly guilty when he turned his eyes to me

"What did I get you into?" he asked, shaking his head

"It's my fault Harley I should have told you about all this earlier"

"Why didn't you?" he asked, suddenly realizing and wondering too

"You were so happy here Everything was going the way you wanted I felt horrible even thinking about it, and then I told ot so sick from that food and whatever else she put in mine that I missed a chance to do so earlier