Gemotions

The new house felt oddly silent, save for the rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock in the entry hall. For weeks, Clara had been drawn to the wall behind the staircase, a persistent nagging in her mind telling her there was more to it. Today, the itch to investigate became impossible to ignore.

She ran her hand along the wall, searching for a seam, a weakness. She found a slight indentation near the baseboard. Pressing against it, she heard a soft, almost imperceptible click.

A small section of the wall swung inward, revealing a dark, concealed space. Clara’s breath quickened. She pulled the cord on the closest lamp and dashed into the room.