“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.”
So I went into the bedroom to get my mother's diary and gave it to Daley. He looked at the little lock in the diary and found a pen and stuck it in the middle of the lock. He twirled the pen a few times before the lock fell to the floor.
“See, that's easy.” Daley handed me the diary.
