“But they must have dropped this when they were leaving.”

Suddenly, we heard the sound of gravel crunching outside on the driveway.

Another car had pulled up behind ours.

We froze, staring at each other in the dim light of the cellar.

Above us, the floorboards of the kitchen began to creak under the weight of heavy footsteps.

“Is anyone in here?” a loud voice called out from the kitchen above.

It was not Eleanor’s voice.

It was a man’s voice, rough and unfamiliar.

Nathan reached out and turned off the flashlight, plunging us into complete darkness.

“Stay behind me,” he whispered in my ear.

We stood perfectly still, listening as the footsteps moved slowly toward the pantry door directly above our heads.

The trapdoor creaked as someone began to lift it from the other side.

A beam of bright light cut through the darkness of the cellar, sweeping across the floor just inches from our boots.

I held my breath, my heart pounding so hard I was sure they could hear it.

The light stopped, illuminating the empty space behind the loose stone.