My sister called me at midnight and whispered, “Turn off every light. Go to the attic. Don’t tell your husband.” I thought she was losing her mind — until I looked through the floorboards….

I climbed slowly, each wooden step creaking beneath my bare feet. The attic smelled of dust, insulation, and old holiday boxes. I shut the door behind me and slid the small latch into place.

“Lock it,” Mara said.

“I did.”

“Stay away from the window.”

Then the call dropped.

For one long, awful minute, nothing happened.

Then I heard Caleb’s voice downstairs.

No longer sleepy.

Calm.

“Lights are off,” he said.