I heaved, and the trapdoor fell back against the floor with a bang, revealing a dark square just narrow enough to fit down. Will nudged me and pointed at the trapdoor. I glanced at it, and a shudder ran through me. The underside was covered with deep scratches, as if someone had tried to claw their way out.

I heard them scratching…

When I looked closer, I saw that there were dull red stains, faded almost to brown, on the wood too. At that moment, with a final flicker, the lights went out.

“Damn.” Will switched on the torch of his phone. “It’s the storm.”

I nodded, desperately hoping that it was the storm and not something else. We stared at the dark space leading underground. I peered into the gloom but could see nothing except for the first few rungs of a ladder attached to the wall. I knew if I looked at it for any period of time I would lose my nerve, so I swung my legs over the side and gripped the ladder. Will immediately protested that he ought to be the one to go first, but I ignored him and started to climb. The air coming up felt so cold that I thought 295it would be a long way down, but I soon reached a stone floor. I kept thinking I’d feel cold fingers on my neck at any moment so I was eager to press my back against the damp wall rather than have it facing an unknown space.

As Will came down to join me, my phone torch swept the room. It was small, barely bigger than a cupboard, there were no windows or doors, and I felt instantly claustrophobic. A terrible, bleak hopelessness seemed to fill the room. There was a single wooden table in one corner and, beneath it, a pile of mouldy old blankets that were now little more than rags.

As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I realized that there was a single piece of paper and a pen on the table beside a stub of candle. I walked over, Will close behind me. The paper was another letter, in the tidy handwriting I’d come to know well.

Dear Mama,

I hope you get this letter, but I don’t think you ever will. Something has happened. I’ve been alone a long time. I was really hungry for a while, but now my tummy just feels like it’s shrunk away to nothing. There was a bad storm – the worst one I ever heard – and my last candle will run out 296soon too.

Papa said he was leaving, but I didn’t believe him. I thought he’d come back once the storm was over. He never did. Everyone else has forgotten me. I’m not getting out of this room.