She held her breath, listening. Nothing followed. No footsteps. No voices. Just silence. She exhaled slowly, convincing herself it was the house settling, and moved toward the pantry, only to stop dead. The back door was cracked open. Barely an inch, but open. A thin breeze stirred the curtain beside it. Kayla’s pulse jumped. She hadn’t touched that door. She was certain.
Her gaze darted toward the stairwell again, the faint sound she’d heard suddenly replaying in her mind. Her voice came out small and tentative as she called, “Hello? Mark? Sabrina?” No response. No shifting floors. Only silence thickening around her.