The morning light made the house seem harmless again, but Emma still felt uneasy. She kept thinking about the whisper she heard the night before.
She decided to keep busy. Cleaning would help. She moved the small rug in her room to sweep under it, but as she dragged it away, something caught her eye—a narrow gap between two of the floorboards.
It wasn't like the other spaces in the wood. This one looked almost… deliberate. She knelt down and touched it. One of the boards shifted slightly under her fingers.
Emma pressed harder, and the board lifted just enough for her to peek inside. Her breath caught when she saw a small bundle wrapped in cloth. She pulled it out carefully and unfolded the fabric.
Inside was a key. Not shiny, but old, with a strange swirl carved into the handle. She ran her thumb over it. It didn't look like it belonged to a normal door.
Emma stared at it for a long moment, wondering if it was the same key from the photograph. If it was, then it might open the locked door at the end of the hall.
She felt a mix of fear and excitement. This was her chance to find out what her grandmother had been hiding. But part of her wasn't sure she wanted to know.
Emma put the key in her pocket and replaced the floorboard. She told herself she would wait for the right time. But deep down, she knew—sooner or later, she was going to try it.