“What book, sweetie?” I asked, keeping my voice as calm as possible.

“Mommy’s book,” she whispered.

She looked toward the heavy oak door at the end of the hall, her shoulders shaking.

“She told me to keep it safe from Vanessa,” Sophie said.

The mention of her stepmother’s name made her voice tremble.

I stood up slowly, keeping my movements deliberate so I wouldn’t startle her.

Pierce followed my lead, keeping his distance but watching Sophie with intense focus.

Emma and Lily were watching us from the archway of the living room, their faces pale.

“Sophie,” Emma said, her voice cracking. “You spoke.”

Sophie didn’t answer her sister; she just kept her eyes on the basement door.

I walked toward the end of the hall, the air growing colder the closer I got to the door.

A draft was whistling through the frame, smelling of old concrete and damp earth.

There was a heavy brass lock on the door, but it was turned to the open position.

I reached out and grasped the cold brass knob.

It turned with a stiff, grinding click.