A childhood belief about around the house

Growing up, there was a crawl space above our house with nothing in it. We never stored anything up there, there was no light, it was just a tiny, dusty space above the house that nobody ever went in. When I first discovered that we had a crawl space, I asked my mom why it was that we didn't use it and she gave me a vague, "I don't know, we just don't." I took this to mean that she was concealing some deep dark secret and after much thinking and staring up at the little square in the hall ceiling which lead to the crawl space, concluded that my parents had a fourth child that they never told my sisters and I about -- they simply hid him in the crawl space, only giving him food when their other children were asleep. Somehow I decided that his name was Hugo and would occasionally use the broom handle to open the little crawl space door and announce to "Hugo" that I knew the truth about him.