← DON'T OPEN THE ATTIC
18
Chapters
1

The House on Ashford Lane

READING
2

The First Night

3

What Lives Above

4

The Hargrove Woman

5

What Lily Heard

6

David

7

The Camera

8

The Sound Through the Wall

9

Before Dawn

10

The Hours After

11

The History

12

Marsh's Journals

13

Going Back

14

After

15

One Year Later

Chapter 1 — The House on Ashford Lane

Page 2 of 2 • ~2 min read

The realtor, a cheerful woman named Janet Pryor who wore blazers the colour of sunflowers and talked at a speed that suggested she was being paid by the word, had given them the keys and a folder of documents at closing the week before. She had not mentioned the Hargroves. When David had asked — he'd done his research — Janet had said only that the previous owners had relocated for "personal reasons" and that the house had been professionally cleaned and inspected and was "absolutely move-in ready."The inspection report had come back clean. Roof solid, foundation excellent, electrical updated, plumbing functional. Nothing in the attic of note.But tucked into the folder of documents, behind the warranty information for the water heater, Nora had found something Janet had not put there.A single index card, handwritten in small, cramped letters:

The attic door at the end of the upstairs hall — do not open it. Not for any reason. Not for any sound. Do not open it.

You will want to. It will give you reasons. Don't.

— E. HargroveNora had read it twice. She had shown it to David. He had laughed — not unkindly — and said: "Well, that's charming. Classic old house creepiness." He had put it back in the folder.Nora had taken it out again, later, and put it in her coat pocket.She was wearing that coat now, walking up the porch steps, the index card pressed against her side like a small cold stone.Inside, the house smelled of dust and old wood and something faintly sweet that she couldn't identify. The floors were original hardwood, the ceilings tall, the light coming through the windows in long geometric shapes.David walked through the ground floor like a man in love, touching things — the mantelpiece, the kitchen counters, the banister of the central staircase — with a reverent tenderness.Owen had already disappeared upstairs, his footsteps audible above them. Lily stood in the entryway and looked around with those careful eyes."I like it," she said, finally.Nora exhaled. "Good," she said. "Me too."She was almost sure it was true.Almost.

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