I looked up, my breath catching in my throat.

Arthur was inside, searching for something.

Or destroying it.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my keys.

My fingers shook as I found the brass key to the side kitchen door.

I walked up the wooden steps of the porch, trying to avoid the squeaking boards.

I inserted the key into the lock.

It turned with a heavy, metallic click.

I pushed the door open.

The kitchen was pitch black, smelling faintly of old coffee and lavender polish.

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, leaving it unlocked in case I had to run.

The silence inside the house was heavy, suffocating.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing pulse.

I had to find out what my father was doing here before it was too late.

I crept toward the main hallway, my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

The staircase loomed ahead of me.

A soft rustling sound came from the floor above.

It was followed by the low murmur of a voice.

He was talking to someone on his phone.