As I finally reached the bottom of the steps and placed one foot on the basement floor, the floorboard shifted beneath me. It didn’t creak like old wood normally does. It groaned. An eerie, for boating sound. Almost like a warning. Strange, considering this house was over two hundred years old and not a single stair had made a sound. But the moment I stepped onto the basement floor, it spoke. Ominous. Like the house had been holding its breath until now. I should’ve taken it as a sign to turn back. But I didn’t. I was a curious girl. And unfortunately, curiosity doesn’t always come with good judgment.