A story that begins with an unlocked door—and ends who knows where?
It was just past midnight when I turned the corner onto Elm Street. Rain had begun to fall—soft at first, then steady—and my coat offered little protection. But what stopped me cold wasn’t the weather.
“I found the door open when I came home last night.”
Those words echoed in my mind all day. My neighbor, Mrs. Holloway, said it with such calmness, as if commenting on the weather. But her front door hadn’t been opened in weeks—not since her cat disappeared. And now… it swung gently in the breeze, unguarded, inviting… or warning.
What would you do? Step inside to check? Call the police? Or walk away, pretending you never saw it?
What happens next?