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Amie Massey Aya-ay was born and raised in the coalfields of West Virginia. She currently resides in Huntington, West Virginia, with her husband and four children. Her love for reading and writing came from her parents, who made sure she spent many hours at her favorite childhood place, the local Book Mobile. She is thrilled to share her debut book series, Secrets in the House, with readers.
Sophie Smith thought moving would be the biggest change in her life—until her dad was elected President of the United States. Now she’s dodging paparazzi, living by a schedule, and learning White House survival tips from the former president’s daughter. But when a secretive artist crosses her path and an unexpected friend hands her a mysterious key, Sophie discovers it unlocks more than doors: it opens secrets hidden inside the White House itself. Where will the key lead—and is Sophie ready for what she’ll find?
Amie Massey Aya-ay
Secrets in the House by Amie Massey Aya-ay ©2026 Amie Massey Aya-ay All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any other form or for any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage system, without written permission from Headline Books, Inc. To order additional copies of this book or for book publishing information, or to contact the author: Headline Books, Inc. P. O. Box 52 Terra Alta, WV 26764 www.headlinebooks.com mybook@headlinebooks.com Chapter illustrations by Jolie Aya-ay Headline Kids is an imprint of Headline Books, Inc. ISBN: Library of Congress Control Number:
P R I N T E D I N T H E U N I T E D S TAT E S O F A M E R I C A
For my Dad, who taught me to love reading and to never give up.
CHAPTER 1 The first time I noticed the girl in the painting, I was already late. I’m always late. Everyone’s always telling me to hurry. At ten years old, I guess being a little slow is part of who I am. My mom yells at me daily, “Hurry to come to dinner, hurry to get ready for bed, hurry and get dressed.” Right now, she is yelling at me, “Hurry to the car.” “I’m coming, Mom,” I yelled as I grabbed my new winter coat and ran down the long hallway outside my bedroom. Why do they even make kids attend these boring events that are boring for adults? “See you later, Ted,” I yelled as I ran past my dad’s library. Ted was standing awkwardly by the huge brown door of the library, like he was waiting for someone, when he called back, “Slow down before you hurt yourself again.” 5
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Everyone likes to remind me of the cast on my right arm, which came from a little accident. Who would purposely trip on the school playground and break their arm, especially when everyone is always already watching them? I am always reminded everyone is watching me. I never asked to be clumsy, but here I am, looking like a complete disaster with a bright pink cast on my arm while the world watches. I round the corner of the hallway upstairs and fly down the steep maroon carpeted staircase. Briefly, I pause to look at the beautiful painting of the little girl at the end of the stairs. The little girl tilts her head slightly like she’s listening to something. I bet she has a story to tell. Right on cue, I hear voices of people yelling at me to slow down so I don’t hurt myself, which is funny because my mom just told me to hurry up. I exit into the small parking area that is reserved just for my family. The passenger-side door of the black limo is open, and I slide into the warm seat just in time. Just in time for what, you might ask. My mom’s glaring face as she scolds me for being late. I touch my pocket and feel my little notebook. I take it out to add a note. 6
Amie Massey Aya-ay
“Your dad told me to make sure we meet him at this important event before it starts, so we are not to be late. You’re going to have to get used to this new lifestyle. Well, we all are going to have to,” she said as she looked down sadly at her new shiny watch. I relaxed back into my warm car seat and met the dark eyes of my older brother, Jonny. Jonny rolled his eyes, then looked away out the car window. Jonny never seemed to smile anymore. The move was hard on him, as he left his friends and his girlfriend, Eva, behind. Forgetting his glare and my mom’s tone, I looked away and out the dark-tinted window as the limo rolled down the long, busy streets. I’m still surprised to see so many people waving and watching our car pass. The attention always surprises me, especially when the lights and sirens around our car grow louder as we travel down Pennsylvania Avenue, the very street everyone knows is significant. I always wonder why they make such a fuss about us when we drive down the street, though they prefer not to draw attention to us in public. Sometimes I sure wish country roads would take me home. We pulled into a back alley behind the art museum and came to a sudden stop. The drives to places 7
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were always very short, which made me wonder why we couldn’t walk anywhere. Who made these rules anyway? I wondered if my dad even knew about some of these rules…. The car door opens slowly, and I see a smiling, familiar face: Ted. How did he beat us here? That guy moves around faster than Superman. Ted said, “Hey, squirt. Did you think I would let you come by yourself and break your other arm? Averi would ground us both.” He said with a wink. The alley smelled like garbage, and I missed West Virginia immediately. Ted opens the rusty back door to the building. He always lets the other guys go into a building first while we stand back and wait. As I walk into the building, I smell a familiar, favorite scent in the hallway. It smells like paint, old books, and burnt coffee. Jonny and my mom followed me into the building. Ted is now walking ahead of us, doing his usual check of the surroundings. A back door to the art museum opens, and we are quickly ushered down a well-lit hallway with beautiful emerald green carpet. I stopped briefly to take in the beautiful hallway before rushing ahead again. 8
Amie Massey Aya-ay
We keep walking down the beautiful hallway, and I cannot help but notice the amazing artwork on the chestnut wood-covered walls. The door opens, and we walk into a room that takes my breath away. The carpets are still emerald, but the brightly colored, floral wallpapered walls feature beautiful paintings. It reminds me of the Greenbrier Resort with floral wallpaper everywhere. “Wow! Tell me this is the coolest thing that you guys have ever seen in your entire life!” I say to my mom. I ran over to look at one of the paintings on the wall. The painting depicts a little girl writing in a notebook in a garden. It almost looks like a photograph. The smiling little girl looks like she is having the best day of her life. I couldn’t explain it, but the girl in the garden felt familiar. Like I’d already passed her in a hallway somewhere. I’m stunned into silence as I walk slowly around for a couple of minutes. The paintings look familiar, but I cannot place them. I find myself walking around the room studying each painting. Most of the paintings are portraits of children. One of the paintings features a little girl holding a piece of paper in one hand and a key in the other hand. She 9