They reached the ledge together. It was barely there—a narrow ribbon of stone extending from the cliff face toward the door. Too thin to stand on comfortably, too exposed to hesitate on. Once they stepped onto it, backing out wouldn’t be an option. Nora went first, turning sideways and easing across, her shoulder brushing the rock.
Ethan followed, heart pounding, eyes fixed on the door as the drop yawned below them. Up close, the door smelled faintly sweet beneath the damp stone air. Fermented. Ethan noticed it even before his hand closed around the handle. They pressed themselves against the cliff, breathing shallowly. “Hello?” Nora called, voice steady despite everything.