Òyì nke e mepụtara

“Hello?” she called out softly. “Is someone there?” The scratching stopped. For a moment, there was only silence—thick, suffocating silence. Then, a slow knock. Once. Twice. Three times. Emma swallowed. “This isn’t funny. Who is it?” A voice answered, barely above a whisper. “Emma… let me in.” Her blood ran cold. “How do you know my name?” A pause.