The lock turned with a metal cough. Boots on stone. The basement swallowed the sound and gave back cold.
“Inside," Father said.
Audrey stepped past him. Chains clinked from the walls. A single bulb hummed.
The door swung. The lock scraped. The world shrank to damp stone and a rectangle of wood.
The wolf stirred.
“No," Audrey said. “Not yet."
“Break his neck," the wolf said.
“Not yet," she said.
Water tapped somewhere far away. Pipes throbbed. Audrey sat on the lowest step and leaned her head against the rail. The stone gave back its chill.
Above, steps retreated. Voices blurred into the ceiling. She closed her eyes. Boots returned sooner than pride would have. A fist knocked once, then twice.
“Audrey?" Derrick's voice through the wood. “Are you awake?"
“I live," she said.
“Open
