Son compartido

The room was silent as a girl lay in bed, scrolling her phone. Suddenly—knock, knock. She looked at the door. “Mom?” No answer. She opened it. The hallway was empty. When she turned back— knock, knock. This time, from the closet. Her breath shook. “That’s not funny…” “Honey… open the door,” a voice whispered. It sounded like her mom. “My mom is downstairs,” she said. The closet slowly opened. “Then who knocked before?” The light went out. Knock. Knock.