“Someone was hiding here,” she said quietly. Harris nodded, his expression sober. “Happened more than people like to remember,” he replied. “Families on the run, refugees. Easier to close things up after, I suppose, than live with the reminder.” He stepped back from the opening, giving her space.
Later, when he’d left and the tools were silent, Lucy stood alone in Emma’s room, facing the exposed cavity. The cold air flowed out more gently now, as if exhausted. She thought of the tapping, the way it had come in clusters, as though echoing movement inside a space precisely this small.