"What?"
"Now."
They obeyed.
Police searched the upper floors first.
Nothing.
Then the attic.
Nothing.
Finally, they followed the hidden corridor.
It climbed behind the nursery wall and continued toward the tower.
The passage was far older than the house's recent renovations.
But someone had been using it.
There were food wrappers.
A blanket.
An empty bottle.
And a small battery-powered lamp.
Emily felt sick.
"Someone has been here."
Miller nodded.
"Recently."
That night they stayed at a hotel.
Daisy refused to sleep.
She sat beside the hotel door, listening.
Emily barely slept.
At three in the morning, Mark woke her.
"Em."
She opened her eyes.
"What?"
"Listen."
She heard nothing.
Then—
Scratch.
Scratch.
Scratch.
Emily sat upright.
It was coming from somewhere outside.
Mark opened the curtain.
The parking lot was empty.
Daisy stood on the bed, staring toward the window.
Emily whispered her name.
The dog didn't turn.
Something had followed them.
Or perhaps Emily's frightened mind was connecting unrelated sounds.
The next morning, Sergeant Miller called.
"We found another entrance."
"Where?"
"The attic."
Emily closed her eyes.
"Was someone living there?"
"We don't know yet."
There was a pause.
Then Miller said:
"We found evidence that someone had been watching the nursery."
Emily felt the room tilt.
"What do you mean?"
"There's a viewing slit in the woodwork."
Mark took the phone from her.
"Is anyone there now?"
"No."
"Then where did they go?"
"We're trying to determine that."
Daisy began barking.
Emily looked at her.
The dog was staring at the hotel room door.
Then came three knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
No one was standing outside.
Police returned to Blackwood Lane with additional equipment.
Emily and Mark stayed away.
They watched from the sidewalk while investigators entered through the front door.
For nearly an hour, nothing happened.
Then Sergeant Miller emerged.
"We found a second passage."
"Where?"
"Behind the bathroom."
Mark looked toward the house.
"How extensive is it?"
"More than we expected."
Miller explained that the original architect had built a concealed network connecting several parts of the house.
Some sections had been sealed decades earlier.
Others remained accessible.
The disturbing part was that someone had reopened them.
"Could the person still be inside?" Emily asked.
"We don't think so."
"You don't think?"
"We haven't found him."
Him.
The word stayed with Emily.
Later that afternoon, officers found an attic room that looked recently occupied.
There was a mattress.
Canned food.
Blankets.
A collection of household objects.
None of it belonged there.
Then Deputy Davis found something else.
Photographs.
Some were old.
Others were recent.
Emily's breath caught when she saw one.
It was a picture of her standing outside the house on moving day.
She had never seen it before.
"Where did this come from?"
Davis didn't answer.
Miller took the photograph carefully.
"That's enough."
Emily stepped backward.
Mark put his arm around her.
"We're leaving."
But Daisy suddenly barked.
She pulled toward the house.