Vera

The air upstairs smelled like metal and rain.

I followed Nicolas anyway.

He told me to stay put, but the echo of footsteps above us—the slow, dragging kind that didn’t belong to Vanessa—pulled me up the staircase like a magnet.

The hallway was long and narrow, lined with old portraits that had faded into ghostly outlines. Every step creaked beneath my shoes, and each sound felt like it screamed into the silence.

Then I saw him.

Nicolas stood at the far end of the hall, flashlight ...