I reached the panel to my room, crawled out, closed it, and pushed the wardrobe against the wall….-HONGNGOC

I slipped my finger underneath.

I pushed.

Click.

The panel opened like an old wooden sigh.

The smell hit me immediately.

Dampness.

Mold.

Dust.

And something else.

A chemical smell.

Chlorine.

As if someone had been cleaning too much down there.

I looked inside.

The passageway was narrow and sloped downward, like a throat leading into the belly of the house. Broken concrete steps and old pipes lined the sides.

I went down.

Each step felt like a scream, though it made no sound.

In the flashlight’s beam, I saw something written on parts of the wall.

Names.

Dates.

Arrows.

At the end of the passageway I heard something.

Voices.

Whispers.

I stopped, pressing myself against the wall.