Megan crouched near the baseboard, running her fingers lightly along the seam where the wall met the floor. “It’s damp again,” she said. “I dried this yesterday. Completely.” When she pulled her hand back, her fingertips glistened as though she’d touched morning dew.
The smell hit stronger at that angle too, earthy, stagnant, like a forest floor after weeks of rain. She stood quickly. “Dan, something’s behind this wall. Something big. It has to be.” Daniel didn’t argue anymore. The window spacing, the coldness, the smell, it all aligned into an answer he didn’t want to say out loud. Instead, he grabbed a utility knife from the toolbox.