Lena had always been curious about the old abandoned house at the end of Maple Street. It was a place the children whispered about, stories swirling of ghosts and hidden treasures. But Lena, a seventh-grader with a brave heart and an adventurous spirit, refused to believe in such stories. To her, the house was simply a mysterious place waiting to be explored. One chilly autumn afternoon, Lena decided to investigate. Armed with her trusty flashlight and a small backpack filled with snacks and a notebook, she tiptoed past her sleeping dog and approached the creaking gate. The house loomed before her, its windows dark and broken, vines creeping up its sides like nature’s secret embrace. She hesitated for a moment, then pushed open the rusty gate with a loud squeal that echoed down the street. Inside, the yard was overgrown with weeds, and fallen leaves blanketed the ground. Lena took a deep breath and stepped onto the front porch. The wood beneath her feet was worn and splintered, but she pushed through her nerves and entered the house. The door groaned loudly as she swung it open, revealing a dim hallway filled with dust and shadows. Lena’s eyes darted around, taking in the peeling wallpaper, broken furniture, and a staircase that spiraled upward into darkness. She climbed cautiously, each step creaking beneath her weight. On the second floor, she found a doorway slightly ajar. Inside was a small room filled with old trunks, dusty books, and a large mirror covered with a tattered cloth. Curious, Lena pulled the cloth away. The mirror was tarnished but still reflected her image clearly. Suddenly, she noticed something strange: behind her reflection, in the mirror’s glass, there was a faint shimmer. She leaned closer, squinting. It looked like a tiny, glowing figure—a flickering light that seemed to dance just behind her. Startled, Lena turned around quickly, but the room was empty. She shook her head, telling herself it was just her imagination. Still, she felt a strange tingling in her fingers and a whisper of excitement. Maybe this house was full of secrets after all. As she explored further, Lena discovered a small, hidden compartment in the wall. Inside was a worn leather journal. She carefully opened it and saw that it belonged to a young girl named Emily, who had lived in the house long ago. The journal was filled with drawings, stories, and notes about a mysterious glowing light that Emily believed was a kind of fairy or spirit. Lena read with growing fascination. Emily had written about how she saw the tiny light flicker and dance, and how she believed it was a guardian spirit watching over her. Lena felt a thrill—she had found a piece of history, a secret story from someone who had once called this house home. When Lena finally left the house, the sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the neighborhood. She carried the journal in her backpack and a new sense of wonder in her heart. The house no longer seemed scary. Instead, it felt like a place where stories lived, waiting for someone brave enough to uncover them. From that day on, Lena visited the house often, not to fear the ghosts but to listen to the whispers of the past and remember that every old building might hide a story worth telling. And sometimes, she thought she saw that tiny, glowing figure in the mirror or out of the corner of her eye, reminding her that magic could be real if you only believed.

Answer the following questions based on the passage above.