Annabelle hesitated outside the door of what used to be her room, with her hand hovering over the doorknob.

Her fingers trembled, barely brushing the cool metal.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

The air seemed suddenly thick and suffocating as if the house itself was trying to crush her courage.

Her chest felt tight, and her pulse became erratic.

She had been avoiding this moment for as long as she could.

She had found reasons to linger in the other parts of the house or step outside altogether.

But there was no escaping it anymore.

This room had been her prison.

It had held her secrets, her fears,...