The terminal screen in front of me suddenly went black.

A single line of text appeared on the monitor in red letters.

*Access Denied.*

Then, the lights in the room flickered and died, plunging me into absolute darkness.

I stood frozen, the silence of the vault pressing in on my chest.

My phone screen was the only source of light left, its pale glow reflecting off the cold metal walls.

In the quiet, I heard the faint, metallic sound of a key turning in the lock from the outside.

The mechanical deadbolt slid into place with a final, heavy thud.

I lunged against the iron door, pressing my palm against the cold metal.

Nothing moved.

The handle was completely rigid, disengaged from the internal latch.

“Hello?” I called out, my voice flat against the reinforced walls.

Only the low hum of the dead terminal answered me.

I held up my phone, using the screen to illuminate the narrow space of the anteroom.

The photograph of the north parlor still glared back at me from the screen.

Whoever had taken it was already inside the house.