Sarah

Sydney pulls a large book from a shelf in the massive, stately library. I leap back, muffling a shocked yelp with my hands covering my mouth as a trap door swings open, revealing a spiral staircase.

“Come on,” he says jovially, excitement blooming behind his eyes.

“Where are you taking me?” I let him take my hand and tug me into the cramped secret stairwell. He pulls a lever on the wall, and the door swings shut again in near silence.

“My mom had this built for my dad when I was nine, for their wedding anniversary. It took nearly a decade to complete.”

I follow him up the...