Chapter 6: The House Holds Its Breath

"The wind blows, the trees sway..."

"Baby be good, go to sleep..."

Inside, the living room was cast in blue light from the TV, which played static in the corner. Mrs. Harrison sat on the floor beside the bed, clutching her daughter’s red dress, humming a lullaby to herself, eyes glazed and distant.

Mr. Harrison was sprawled out on the bed, stiff as a board, eyes wide and unblinking, staring straight at the wall like he was already halfway out of this world. The whole room felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for something terrible to happen.

Somewhere upstairs, a floorboard creaked—too slow, too careful, like someone or something didn’t want to be found.