Tempest's Secret

Hi, my name is Tempest. I'm 11, short and skinny. I have thick, brown hair that tangles like crazy when I run. I look like a broomstick upside down. Wallace is my jumpy, happy little brother; he's 8. We're bored at home because Mum and Dad work a lot, but they always say no to a pet. I could CRY for joy if I had a pet, especially a cat. I know everything about cats.

Last Sunday, Wallace and I rescued a black-and-white kitten stuck in the big tree near our house. He had no tag or collar: we named him Pompon. I decided to keep him a secret from Mum and Dad, for just a few days, to prove to them that I could take care of a pet on my own.

When I came back from school on Monday, Pompon had disappeared. I started investigating right away. I followed him to mysterious old man a strange factory over the river Thames to find out what was in the bag, but Mum called me back home before I could get inside.

At home, clues pointed at Manie, our eccentric grandmother, who knew about Pompon. Could she have betrayed us?

Climbing over Manie's balcony, I almost broke my neck trying to look for my kitten. I had to face an axe murderer, too. Well, not really: Lady Lavender was just a granny preparing lamb chops for dinner.

In only a few days, I've rescued a kitten, kept it secret, lost it, faced scary strangers, and had to brave my fears.

Who took him? Did I manage to save him and keep him as my pet? You'll know it if you read my story.