Chapter 3: The Narrow Opening
Vanessa kept herself between me and the concealed catch, one hand closed around the keys. Lily stood behind my right leg, gripping the back of my shirt hard enough to pull the fabric against my throat. Dust from the cracked plaster settled across the floor and our shoes. The wardrobe had shifted less than an inch, but the gap beside it was enough to expose a dark metal plate set into the woodwork behind the molding.
I raised both hands where Vanessa could see them, then moved slowly toward the keys. She tightened her fist and angled her shoulder into my path. I did not push her. Instead, I planted one foot against the baseboard and leaned just enough to keep her from stepping into Lily. The keys struck one another inside her grip. Three were ordinary brass. The fourth was thin and dark, with a square notch cut into its tip.
That was the one she had tried to hide.
I caught the ring between two fingers. Vanessa resisted, pulling it close to her waist, but her hold changed when another faint sprinkle of plaster dropped beside the wardrobe. Her eyes went to the crack in the wall. In that instant, I turned the ring rather than yanking it away. The dark key separated from the others and slid into my palm.
The hidden lock was almost level with my knee. Layers of paint had sealed its edges, and the key resisted halfway in. I worked it gently, feeling for the notch instead of forcing it. Behind me, Lily shifted from one bare foot to the other. Vanessa watched my hand without blinking.
The key turned a fraction.
Something released with a dry click.
A narrow panel opened inward behind the wardrobe, no wider than my hand. Cold, stale air came through the seam. The opening was too tight for my head, and the wardrobe blocked most of the angle. I lowered myself to the floor and used the light from the hallway rather than reaching blindly inside.
At first I saw only rough boards and a band of darkness descending behind them. Then my eyes adjusted. Dust lay thick on a shallow ledge, except for one disturbed line running through it. Near that line sat a small wooden bead painted yellow. A chipped white flower covered one side, and a short piece of frayed pink cord remained threaded through its center.
Lily’s grip left my shirt.
She stepped beside me before I could stop her. Her whole body went still when she saw the bead. One hand rose to the base of her throat, fingers closing around empty air as if something should have been hanging there. She looked from the opening to Vanessa.
Vanessa moved immediately.
She caught the panel’s outer edge and drove it toward the frame. I put my palm against the wood before it could close. The panel bit down on the side of my hand, and the damaged plaster gave another brittle crack above us. The wardrobe rocked forward, then settled with a heavy groan.
For a second, I had two choices and neither was safe. I could fight Vanessa for the panel and risk bringing the wardrobe down, or let her seal away the first thing that had made Lily step out from behind me.
I eased my hand back just enough to take the pressure off the hinges. Vanessa pushed again, expecting the opening to close. Instead, I slipped the dark key sideways between the panel and its frame. The metal stopped it with a narrow gap still showing. I kept one hand against the wardrobe’s side until its weight steadied.
Vanessa reached for the key ring at my feet. I covered it with my shoe without looking away from the crack.
Inside, the yellow bead remained on the ledge. Behind it, the disturbed dust continued into darkness, too straight and too recent to belong to settling debris. Lily had recognized the bead. Vanessa had recognized what opening the panel could expose.
The hallway was no longer just damaged. It was a scene that could still be altered, and I was standing between the evidence and the person determined to close it.
May you like
Lily crouched beside me and pointed past the bead, deeper into the narrow black space.
Vanessa’s hand closed around my wrist as she reached for the key holding the panel open.
