the house is freezing (6)

Her grandmother’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes, and Ellie’s own face looks strange, almost like it’s been blurred. Then the sound starts. At first, she thinks it’s the wind. A low, mournful howl that rises and falls. But it’s not coming from outside.

It’s coming from below. The basement. Her grip on the flashlight tightens as she makes her way back downstairs. The basement door is closed, but the sound is louder here, a keening wail that makes her stomach churn. She shouldn’t go down there.

Every instinct in her body is screaming at her to turn around, to leave, to never come back. But she’s always been stubborn.The basement stairs are narrow and steep, each step groaning under her weight.