Whisper behind walls
The next morning dawned with an eerie silence that Emilia could neither explain nor shake. The mansion felt heavier, as if the shadows of the night had clung to the beautifully carved doorframes and marble floors till daybreak. Because hearing had become a means of survival in this place, she cautiously moved into the corridor, her bare feet brushing the cool tiles. The walls of Adrian Cross's house spoke in an odd way. Or possibly, she thought, they merely echoed what others attempted to suppress. Outside her new bedroom door, she gingerly touched the wood-paneled wall.. Last night she could have believed she heard faint murmurs—whispers too quiet to discern, yet too purposeful to dismiss. She told herself she was dreaming things, that fatigue had confused her
