“What are you looking for?” Daley looked at me calmly. He had just finished his shower and a white towel was wrapped around his lower body. A drop of water ran down his hair to the forehead.

“Nothing, I'm just looking for pliers,” I lied.

“Pliers? What do you need pliers for?” He gave me a suspicious look.

“Because I want to open the diary,” I said hastily. “My mother's diary is locked. I need tools to open it.”

“There's nothing on the desk that you want,” Daley said. “If you don't mind, I can see what kind of lock it is. Maybe you don't need pliers to open it.”...