I froze.
Clear, defined impressions tracked across the dirt, leading from the ladder to the far wall.
Someone had been down here. Recently.
My heart started to pound in my ears.
The sudden buzz of my phone nearly sent me through the ceiling. I gasped, clutching it tight before forcing out a shaky breath.
A text flashed across the screen.
Cormac: HEY, IT’S CORMAC. I HAVE THE SILVER NUGGET BOXES. I’LL CALL IN THE MORNING.
I blinked once. Then again. “How does he even have my number?” I muttered, texting back.
Me: WHERE ARE YOU? I WANT TO SEE THEM.
Three dots appeared. Then his reply.
Cormac: IT’S LATE. I’LL BRING THEM TO AIDEN’S HOSPITAL ROOM TOMORROW MORNING WHEN YOUR NONNA VISITS AT TEN. HOPEFULLY SHE’LL BRING MORE COOKIES.
I froze, rereading that last line.
Me: HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THE COOKIES?
I texted the question, but the message stayed unanswered. The dots never came back.
Me: CORMAC! WHERE DID YOU FIND THE SILVER BOXES?
Nothing.
The idiot had turned off his phone.
I groaned and shoved the device into my back pocket.
A faint movement stirred the air, brushing the loose strands of my hair. A breeze. Down here.
I stilled.
A basement like this shouldn’t have airflow.
The fine hairs on my neck lifted. My eyes scanned the space again, following the edges of the shelves, the line of the dirt wall, until something caught my attention.
Straight ahead, the dirt wasn’t quite even. A faint outline stood out—a rectangle set deeper into the wall, the texture subtly different from the surrounding soil.
I stepped closer, heart thudding harder now. The air smelled faintly of earth and metal, with something older underneath, like rust or mildew. My light flickered across the surface.
The outline wasn’t natural. It was a door.
“Holy crap,” I whispered.
My hands felt clammy as I brushed dirt away, revealing the faint ridge of a wooden frame. A door was there, sealed tight against the packed soil, hidden for who knew how long.
The breeze whispered again, colder this time, as if something inside had just exhaled.
Every rational instinct screamed to get back up that ladder.
Instead, I leaned closer.
