She knew what the building looked like from the outside. Broad and built from heavy wood, it had stood steadfast for more than a hundred years. But as the wind raged against the walls and the old wood groaned under the pressure, it was hard not to believe the house was on the verge of crumbling in on itself.

Margot ran one hand across the wall as she followed the hallway. With the master bedroom door closed, very little light crept into the space. Thin lines ran from each sealed door, fading out across the wood boards. There had to be a light switch somewhere, but she couldn’t find it.

Where are the stairs?

She stopped, squinting into the gloom. She should have arrived at the landing already. In her panic to leave the master bedroom, she must have turned in the wrong direction. Margot ran her tongue across her lips and looked behind herself.

A soft tap tap tap echoed at her back. She froze, her ears straining. The sound had been faint, filtered through the dense walls, but unmistakable.

It’s the wind. Nothing to worry about.

Margot rubbed at the back of her neck. From the dim outlines she could see, the hallway continued on for another twenty feet before turning to the left. Heavy shadows clung to the wood paneling like cobwebs, playing with her eyes.

The sound repeated—three low, heavy taps. Like wood hitting wood. Coming from behind the closest door to her right.

She’d reached for the handle before she could stop herself. Adrenaline still ran through her, and the panicked terror clung to her nerves like static. Her mind painted pictures of what could be emitting the dull taps, so much like knuckles rapping on a window to be let in, but in that moment, she feared not seeing the other side of the door more.

The hinges released a slow, grinding cry as they turned. The door wasn’t used often. As it drifted inward, Margot held herself stiffly, her legs slightly bent as she prepared to dart back.

The room was doused in grays as the cloud-smothered sun began to set. The walls were all covered in faintly patterned tan wallpaper except for a sky-blue feature to her left. Opposite, a french window overlooked a view of the field around the property that Margot hadn’t seen before. Its right-hand pane had been unlatched and left open. As she watched, the wind buffeted it in, resounding with the three heavy, dull tap tap taps.

Margot pressed a held breath out between her clenched teeth. She crossed the room, moving around a single bed that stood against the feature wall, and pulled the window closed. It was old and the wooden frame was slightly swollen, and it grated as she dragged it into place.