As the door swung open, Officer Morales braced himself for what lay beyond the threshold. The air was thick and musty, carrying a stale odor that clung to the walls like a shadow. Jimena stepped inside, her small figure tense yet resolute.
Morales followed, his eyes scanning the dimly lit interior. The living room was sparsely furnished, with a threadbare couch and a cracked coffee table. Papers and empty food containers littered the floor, telling an unspoken story of neglect.
The windows, obscured by heavy drapes, let in only slivers of light, casting long shadows across the room. “Where is he?” Morales asked softly, trying not to startle the girl. “Upstairs,” Jimena replied, her voice a whisper.
“He usually sleeps during the day.”
Morales nodded, his instincts on high alert. He motioned for Jimena to stay close as they moved cautiously through the house. Every creak of the floorboards felt amplified, echoing through the silence.
The house, though modest in size, seemed to stretch on, its corridors winding like a labyrinth. As they reached the staircase, Jimena hesitated. She glanced up, her expression a mix of fear and determination.
“I don’t want him to see me,” she said, clutching her backpack tighter. “Stay here,” Morales instructed gently. “I’ll be right back.”
He ascended the stairs, each step deliberate and measured.
At the top, a narrow hallway led him to a closed door. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he approached, anticipation and dread intertwining. He paused, listening for any signs of movement from within.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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