It started at the front door, a heavy scratching that made the old oak groan in its frame.
It wasn't the polite tap of a neighbor or the distant chime of a doorbell. It was something much larger, pressing its full weight against the house until the hinges shrieked.
Mr. Joshua stood up from his armchair, his body stiffening.
Mrs. Rosa felt a cold shiver run down her back, but it had nothing to do with the drafty windows. To her, it sounded like a big stray dog had wandered onto the porch, but the force of the scratching suggested something far more dangerous, something she had desperately hoped was still in the past.
“Joshua, what is that?” she whispered, her fingers clutching the fabric of her skirt so hard her knuckles turned white. Her eyes stayed fixed on the door handle, which ha
