He pointed to the wheelchair. “Don’t touch the panel. It’s not for guests.”
My curiosity ached when I noticed a weak connection between the metal and the casing – a hidden clasp that could never be opened.
That night the house settled around me, sighing softly, while the wheelchair remained still like a closed secret.
A Discovery at Midnight
The clock struck midnight, and a restless wind blew through the corridors, making the old portraits tremble.
I slid off the couch, stepping silently on the Persian rug, and followed the echo of my heartbeat.
The corridor stretched on forever, its walls decorated with portraits of men I had never seen, whose eyes followed my steps.
From behind the wheelchair’s hidden panel came a faint mechanical hum, a sound like gears turning in a forgotten machine.
