had once told me, “don’t be afraid to use it.”

Neither of us had expected that warning to become necessary.

I unlocked the entrance and stepped inside.

The interior looked immaculate.

Almost unnaturally so.

Every chair and table occupied its familiar position. The kitchen counters were spotless, and nothing suggested anyone had been fighting or struggling.

But Dorothy was missing.

Alex was nowhere around either.

“Dorothy?”

There was no reply.

I ventured farther into the house, increasingly disturbed by the stillness.

Then a barely audible noise caught my attention.

A knock.

Silence.

Another knock.

I stopped moving.

The sound appeared to originate beneath the main floor.

For several seconds, I stood motionless, straining to hear.

Knock.

Knock.

My stomach clenched.

I headed toward the basement staircase.

**The Locked Room**

I cautiously made my way downstairs.

The basement was poorly lit, and the temperature felt noticeably colder.

“Dorothy?”

No response came.