Brenda set the knife down and moved toward the living room, her ears straining to catch the faint cry again. The sound was unmistakable now and seemed to be coming from upstairs. Her chest tightened as she glanced at the staircase. Stacey’s room—was it coming from there?
Her heart raced as she began climbing the stairs, each step slower than the last. A cold sweat formed on her brow, and her pulse pounded in her ears. Reaching Stacey’s door, she hesitated. The sound continued, soft but steady. Taking a deep breath, Brenda pushed the door open and stepped inside.