“Behind… the… furnace.”

I looked at Daniel.

“Did you know about a second pipe?” I asked.

“No,” Daniel said, his eyes wide.

“The house was built in the twenties, before we bought it.”

“There might be an old coal chute or water line we missed.”

I stood up and walked to the back of the vault, where the heavy ventilation housing was bolted to the concrete wall.

There was a narrow gap between the steel box and the rough stone.

I reached my hand into the dark, feeling the cold, damp rock.

My fingers brushed against something metallic and rusted.

It was a iron ring, set deep into the stone floor.

“Daniel, help me,” I said.

Daniel ran over, his heavy flashlight illuminating the dark corner.

The ring was attached to a square iron plate, covered in decades of dust and grease.

“It’s a utility hatch,” Daniel said, kneeling down.

“It must lead to the old drainage system under the foundations.”

“Where does it empty?” I asked.

“The ravine,” Daniel said.

“Near the creek at the southern boundary of the property.”