Chapter 4

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from deep below. My heart jumped into my throat. Fearing she had hurt herself, I was about to rush down when Emily called out sharply.

"Mia, don't come in! Stay there... Ah!"

"Emily! What happened? Did you fall?!"

Hearing her breathless gasp, I rushed toward the opening.

Yet Emily suddenly sounded euphoric, declaring that she was about to become beautiful and ordering me to stay back.

"Mia, d-don't come in! I found Mom's gowns! Wait for me... I-I'm putting it on right now, and then I'll come out!"

She told me to keep watch by the doorway and make sure Mom didn't catch us.

With that, she scurried over and locked the basement door from the inside. A faint, rhythmic creaking of wooden bed slats soon resonated from the room. She stayed locked in there for over an hour.

I paced anxiously outside, stamping my feet.

How long could it possibly take to slip into a nightgown? Dawn was approaching, and Mom always woke early. If she caught us here, she'd rip my head off!

"Emily! Hurry up!" I hissed through the crack in the door, tapping against the wood.

Emily didn't answer. Instead, the creaking of the wooden slats grew louder and more frantic, accompanied by the muffled, strained sobs of a woman in deep, helpless distress.

What was going on? Did she get hurt down there?

"Emily? Are you okay? Why do you sound like that?"

My hands and feet turned ice-cold. I knocked harder, whispering in a panic.

The noises abruptly ceased. After a long silence, a raw, breathy whimper escaped her lips as if she could no longer hold it in, though she still gave me no clear answer.

Finally, Emily's voice drifted out, weak and broken.

"I'm fine... It's just... the one I picked is too long... It's so hard to pull on... Whatever you do, don't come in!"

She pleaded with me to stay out, yet her voice sounded so breathless and drained she seemed on the verge of fainting. It sounded nothing like "fine." Curiosity flared inside me.

What on earth was she doing in there?

I found a hairline crack in the wooden door and pressed my eye to it. But the basement was pitch-black; I couldn't see a thing. I strained my eyes until they gradually adapted to the darkness, finally making out a blurry silhouette.

It was Emily. Her back was turned to me, her legs shifting as her body rose and fell in heavy, rhythmic motions, letting out breathy, panting groans as if suffocating.

Listening closely, I could even hear the faint, coarse friction of tightening ropes.

Worry gnawed at my chest. It seemed Emily had been in such a rush that she grabbed a gown that was far too tight. It appeared so constricting that it was cutting off her air supply.

What if she strangled herself trying to force it on?

Just as I was about to kick the door open to tear the gown off her, a cold shadow loomed silently behind me.