Through the bottom crack of the bedroom door, a shadow blocked the pale light of the hallway.

A hand rattled the brass doorknob, turning it back and forth with increasing violence.

Then, a voice called out from the darkness of the corridor—soft, strained, and entirely devoid of warmth.

“Girls?” Arthur Vance said, his voice muffled by the thick wood. “Your father sent me to get you. We need to leave right now.”

Emma looked at me, her eyes filling with terror.

I pressed my finger to my lips, my heart hammering so hard I was certain he could hear it through the door.

The doorknob stopped turning.

There was a long, agonizing pause.

Then, the heavy sound of a shoulder slamming against the wood shook the frame.

“I know you’re in there,” Vance shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. “Open the door!”

I grabbed Emma and pulled her back toward the connecting door to Sophie’s room, my mind racing as the walkie-talkie in my pocket began to vibrate with a incoming transmission.