KANE

The manor was too quiet. It was the kind of silence that had teeth, gnawing at the corners of the rooms until the shadows felt heavier than the furniture. I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows in the library, the silver gavel resting on the desk behind me. Outside, the rain had stopped, leaving the estate draped in a thick, suffocating fog.

I heard the front doors open. There was no forceful bang this time, no police boots, no frantic shouting. Just the soft, rhythmic click of heels ...