Read Julia Vanishes for Free Online Page A

you, Ella,” he says, and I get a little chill. Have I left some evidence of snooping? I follow him down the stairs to the library, a large book-lined room with comfortable chairs and a fireplace full of barely glowing embers.
    He seems oddly nervous. I look up at him expectantly.
    “At lunch…you said you wished you could read.”
    “Yes,” I say.
    “I could teach you, if you like,” he blurts. “It seems a shame not to…well, I can’t imagine not being able to read.”
    He looks abashed then, like he might have offended me, but I understand the sentiment and am rather touched by it. My mind moves quickly. I don’t need to add pretended illiteracy during reading lessons to my lengthy list of tasks here.
    “I’ve not much time,” I say.
    “I’ll tell Florence I need your help sorting the books,” he says. “Just a short time each day would be enough to get a start.”
    That settles it. If it will give me a break from housework, I’m delighted. And who knows where a greater intimacy with Frederick might lead? He is the professor’s assistant, and it could be very useful indeed to be friends with him.
    “Thank you,” I say, breaking out my best smile for him. “I can’t begin to…It’s very generous of you, sir. I’ve always longed to be able to read.”
    He flushes, and smiles back.
    “Do call me Frederick,” he says.

FOUR
    H ere is what I have learned over the past couple of days: First, inside the black case Professor Baranyi keeps hidden in the secret compartment behind his forbidden books are two vials of liquid, one amber, one clear, and five darts with hollow centers, along with the ingenious little handheld crossbow. Second, Mr. Darius’s room in the cellar is bolted
from the outside.
In other words, he is not keeping people out; somebody else is locking him in. The wooden door has been replaced by a steel one, and there is also a very sturdy key lock. A pick might do for it in the hands of an expert, but I am no expert and have not managed to open the door in spite of two attempts. Third, Frederick is an appallingly bad teacher. It is a very good thing I already know how to read or I would be making no progress at all, and while I consider myself a reasonably good actress, pretending to fumble through the alphabet is a trying sort of performance. Frederick, however, is delighted with my progress and declares we will be reading the classics in no time. Florence is highly suspicious of my new task “sorting books” for Frederick but dares not challenge him. She probably thinks we’re having an affair.
    Midweek, we are all abruptly given the afternoon off.
    “I have a visitor,” Mrs. Och tells us. “We will require privacy.”
    This is extremely interesting, and I have no intention of leaving the house, except that Florence is dogging me everywhere in a disturbingly friendly way, right into my coat and boots.
    “There’s to be a Cleansing at the river, in front of the parliament buildings,” she tells me in a whisper at the doorway, as if I didn’t know.
    Chloe is bundled up next to her, eyes wide and frightened.
    “Come with us,” says Florence.
    She needs to work on her invitation style. I’m tempted to reply tartly that she can’t give me orders if we have the afternoon off and I have other plans. But the two of them look so pale and eager that it’s almost pathetic, and the truth is, I never miss a Cleansing. The prospect of missing this one had me feeling an uncomfortable kind of irritation that I can’t explain and don’t care to think on too deeply.
    “Have you ever been to a Cleansing?” I ask.
    Chloe shakes her head vigorously. Florence hesitates, not wanting to admit to any gap in her experience. Then she says, “My duties keep me far too busy to attend such events.”
    “It’s not much to see,” I tell them. “A few ragged witches get tossed in the river. Sometimes, if you’re lucky, there’s a bit of a scuffle. But it always ends up the same. Witches in