Omar followed his dad up the pull-down attic stairs on Saturday afternoon. They were looking for a box of winter coats, and the attic smelled like dusty books and dry wood. Dad found the coats quickly, but then his phone rang. "Take this box down for me," he said, pointing to a small carton near the back wall. Omar nodded after Dad went downstairs.

The attic became very quiet. Wind brushed against the house, and a loose branch tapped the roof. As Omar bent to lift the box, he noticed a tall shadow stretch across the floorboards. It moved once, then again. Omar froze. He imagined old trunks opening by themselves and hidden creatures peeking out from behind them.

His heart thumped faster. He almost called for Dad, but instead he squinted into the dim corner. The shadow seemed to come from a coat hanging on a nail. Nearby, a curtain at the tiny attic window fluttered in the breeze. Orange light from the setting sun made the coat look longer and stranger than it really was.

Omar let out the breath he had been holding. He walked over, touched the coat sleeve, and laughed softly at himself. Then he shut the window, tucked the curtain aside, and carried the box downstairs. When Dad asked what took so long, Omar grinned. "I was busy solving a mystery," he said.