Chapter 2 - Broken Memories and Locked Doors
Sarah dropped the broom handle, the loud clatter shattering the agonizing silence of the kitchen as the weight of the past five years came crashing down on her. Her mind raced back to that stormy night when Lily’s crib had been found empty, the nursery window wide open to the howling wind, leaving behind only a fading scent of baby powder and a single torn yellow sweater. Now, hearing that same tiny voice calling out from the ventilation shaft beneath her feet, she felt her sanity fracturing. Ryan gritted his teeth, his shoulder muscles straining against the screwdriver until the first stubborn screw finally gave way with a sharp snap. A rush of stale, frigid air surged outward from the vent, carrying a scent so intensely nostalgic and terrifying that Sarah gasped, clutching her chest. It smelled of old dust, copper, and damp earth—the exact scent of the old basement storage room they had sealed up years ago. Leo buried his face deeper into Ryan’s sweater, whimpering as tiny, pale fingernails suddenly reappeared at the edge of the vent, scratching frantically against the metal grid as if begging for rescue.
Ryan pulled the first slat completely free, exposing a pitch-black abyss, but before he could reach inside, a cold gust blew out the kitchen overhead lights, plunging them into sudden, suffocating darkness.
