Leah tried to ignore the locked door. She really did.

  For the next few days, she made a conscious effort to busy herself with anything that would keep her mind off of it. She went out for long walks, lost herself in her editing work, and even started looking up new recipes to try. But no matter how hard she tried to push the curiosity away, it kept creeping back, nagging at her in the quiet moments when there was nothing left to distract her.

  It wasn’t just the fact that it was locked. It was the fact that Derrick had never mentioned it. The apartment wasn’t small, and she had been living there for weeks now. She had explored every other inch of the space, except for that one room. And the more she thought about it, the stranger it seemed.

  What was he hiding in there?

  She told herself she was being ridiculous. Everyone had things they kept private, and Derrick was entitled to his own space. But there was something about the door that unsettled her. It wasn’t just a storage closet or an unused office. It felt… different.

  One afternoon, while Derrick was at work, she found herself once again standing in front of it. She reached for the doorknob and jiggled it, just to confirm that it was still locked. It didn’t budge.

  Leah sighed and pressed her palm against the door. “What are you hiding?” she murmured, as if expecting it to answer.

  She turned away, shaking her head at her own paranoia. But as she stepped back down the hall, something made her stop. It was faint—so faint she almost thought she imagined it.

  A sound.

  A soft creak, as if something had shifted on the other side of the door.

  Leah’s breath hitched in her throat, and she slowly turned back around. She waited, ears straining for any other noises, but the apartment was silent. It could have been nothing. Just the old wood settling. Or maybe even her own imagination playing tricks on her. But for the first time since noticing the door, she felt something new creep in alongside her curiosity.

  Dread.

  That evening, as she sat across from Derrick at dinner, she studied him carefully. He seemed like his usual self—charming, attentive, completely unaware of the thoughts swirling through her mind. She wanted to ask him about the door. She wanted to bring it up casually, as if it were an innocent question, but something held her back.

  What if he reacted badly? What if he got defensive? Or worse—what if he lied?

  So instead, she kept quiet, nodding along as he talked about his day, laughing at his jokes, pretending that everything was normal. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  That night, long after Derrick had fallen asleep beside her, Leah lay awake staring at the ceiling. The curiosity had turned into something else now—something darker. It was no longer just about the mystery of what was behind the door. It was about what it meant. Why would Derrick keep a part of his home locked away from her? What if it wasn’t just an unused room? What if it was something worse?

  Sleep didn’t come easily, and when it did, it was restless and filled with uneasy dreams. She dreamt of the locked door creaking open by itself, of shadows moving just beyond the threshold, of whispers curling around her in the darkness. When she woke up in the early hours of the morning, heart pounding, she knew she wouldn’t be able to let this go.

  The next day, while Derrick was in the shower, she searched his office.

  She wasn’t proud of it, but at this point, her need for answers outweighed her guilt. If there was a key to that door, it had to be somewhere in the apartment. She moved carefully, making sure to put everything back exactly as she found it. She checked drawers, cabinets, even the inside of books. But there was nothing. No key, no mention of a locked room, nothing to indicate that Derrick had something to hide.

  That should have reassured her. It didn’t.

  By the time Derrick left for work, Leah was practically vibrating with frustration. She paced the apartment, torn between leaving the mystery alone and digging deeper. But the decision was made for her when, as she walked past the locked door once again, she heard it.

  A sound. A definite sound.

  Not just the creak of the wood this time. Not just a shift in the air.

  A thump.

  Leah’s breath caught, and she pressed her ear to the door. Silence followed, stretching out so long that she wondered if she had imagined it. But then, just as she was about to pull away—

  Another thump. And then another.

  Something was in there.

  Leah stumbled back, heart hammering. She stared at the door, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind. Was it an animal? No, that didn’t make sense. There was no way Derrick would keep a pet locked in a room. Was someone in there? The idea sent a cold shiver down her spine.

  She needed to get inside. Now more than ever.

  Leah spent the rest of the day searching for another way to open the door. She checked for vents that might lead into the room, tested the hinges to see if they were loose. At one point, she even considered trying to pick the lock, but she had no idea how and wasn’t about to start breaking things in her own home.

  By the time Derrick came home that night, Leah was a bundle of nerves. She tried to act normal, but her mind was spinning. She needed to know what was in that room. And the only person who had the answer was sitting right across from her, eating dinner as if everything was perfectly fine.

  She was tired of pretending. Tired of waiting.

  So she took a deep breath and finally asked.

  “Derrick… what’s behind the locked door?”

  For a split second, he froze.

  It was subtle. So quick that if she hadn’t been watching for it, she might have missed it. But she saw the way his hand paused mid-motion, the way his shoulders stiffened just slightly before he set his fork down carefully on his plate.

  His expression didn’t change much, but there was something unreadable in his eyes as he looked at her. “What locked door?” he asked, his tone light. Too light.

  Leah felt a chill run down her spine. He knew exactly what she was talking about.

  “The one at the end of the hall,” she said, forcing her voice to stay even. “It’s locked. I was just wondering why.”

  Derrick’s lips curved into a small, easy smile. “Oh, that. It’s just storage. Old stuff I don’t really use anymore.”

  “Then why is it locked?”

  He shrugged. “Habit, I guess. I’ll get you a key if you really want to see it.”

  But Leah wasn’t sure if she believed him. And worse—she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see what was inside anymore.

  Because for the first time since moving in, she wasn’t entirely sure she knew who Derrick really was.