The girl stood frozen, her fingers tightening around the suitcase handle.
That whisper—so faint, yet so sharp—was still echoing in her ears.
> "Help... me…"
She slowly turned her head back toward the locked door. Chains hung across it like something meant to keep something in, not just keep others out.
The old woman's voice snapped her back.
"You found it?" she asked calmly, but her smile didn't reach her eyes.
The girl nodded silently and handed over the suitcase.
As the old woman opened it, the girl kept glancing toward the door. Her heart wouldn't stop racing.
Inside the suitcase were only old clothes… but beneath them, something metallic glinted in the corner. A key.
The old woman quickly shut the lid.
"You've been very helpful, dear," she said softly. "Would you like some tea before you go?"
The girl shook her head. "No… I should get back."
She took a step toward the door—but the old woman didn't move aside.
"You know," the woman whispered, "you're the first one to come this far."
The girl blinked. "What do you mean?"
The woman didn't answer. She was still smiling—but now her smile looked wrong. Too wide. Too still.
Suddenly, a loud bang came from behind the locked door.
The girl jumped.
This time, there was no mistaking it: a voice cried out—
> "She's lying!"
The girl stepped back. Her breathing turned shallow. Her fingers reached instinctively for her phone—but there was no signal.
"I have to go," she said again, trying to stay calm.
The old woman's smile didn't fade.
"But it's not safe out there," she said. "Wouldn't you rather stay here… where I can protect you?"
Another bang. Louder.
Then came the sound of scratching… from inside the locked room.
The girl backed toward the door she entered from.
Then she saw it — a second key, hidden just beneath a flower vase on the table beside her.
Her eyes flicked to the chains. Then back to the old woman.
> One voice says help.
The other says stay.
Who was telling the truth?