I pushed the door open, revealing a black staircase descending into the dark.

“Is there a light switch?” Pierce asked, reaching into his jacket for a flashlight.

I felt along the inner wall and flicked a plastic toggle.

A single, dusty bulb flickered to life at the bottom of the stairs, casting long shadows.

“I’ll go first,” Pierce said, stepping in front of me.

“No,” Sophie said from behind us.

We both turned to look at her.

She had stood up from the stairs and was walking toward us, her steps small and hesitant.

“I have to show you,” she said.

I looked at Pierce, who gave me a silent, cautionary nod.

“Okay,” I said, reaching down to take her small, cold hand. “Lead the way.”

We started down the wooden stairs, each step groaning under our weight.

The basement of the Aspen mansion was vast and mostly unfinished.

Stone foundation walls pressed in from the sides, damp with condensation from the snow outside.

Stacks of old furniture covered in grey sheets sat like ghosts in the dim light.