The Locked Door

by Freida McFadden

I pause at the basement door, inhaling that familiar whiff of lavender. And then, while I’m standing there, I hear something. I frown at the door. Dad isn’t home yet, so why is there noise coming from the basement? It sounds like something banging. It’s soft, but I can definitely hear it. And then something else. Almost like a muffled scream. What’s going on down there?