I did all the theater.

A couple of fake drinks.
A tired sigh.
“Heavy” eyelids.

 

Then, when he looked down the hallway for a second, I carefully tilted the cup and poured the tea into a dry pot in the corner behind the curtain.

“Good night, Ale,” I whispered in a sleepy voice.

He smiled.

“Good evening, little sister.

I heard his footsteps move away.

Slow.
No hurry.

As if he knew exactly what time everything was happening.

I waited.

Five minutes.

Ten.

Fifteen.

I stood still, controlling my breathing, until the silence seemed “safe.”

But in that house, nothing was really safe.
It just looked like it.

At exactly nine o’clock, as if the old clock in the hallway were complicit, I heard the first creak.

Then another.

Steps.

Alejandro was coming.

I settled sideways on the bed, as always.
I left one arm hanging slightly, as sleeping people do.

I narrowed my eyes just a crack.

My heart was pounding so hard I thought I would hear it.

The door opened without pushing it.

Alejandro had left the doorknob loose.

He entered.

He didn’t have the cup.

He had a key.

A long, black, old key, with strange teeth.
The kind that only exist in very old houses… or in doors that no one should open.

He walked over to the table next to my bed.

He opened the bottom drawer.

He took out something wrapped in cloth.

He unwrapped it slowly.

A small glass bottle with white pills.

I felt my throat dry out.

“It’s just valerian.”

I saw him put the bottle away again as if he were hiding a secret.

Then he came over to my bed.

He leaned over me.

I held my breath.

Alejandro took my wrist.

Looking for my pulse.

One.

Dos.

Three seconds.

He smiled, satisfied.

He stood up.

And then he did something that made my blood run cold more than the pills.

He approached the wall.

The wall next to the closet.

He ran his fingers over the wood as if he knew perfectly well the seam of something fake.

He pressed.

A small click was heard in the darkness.

The wall… moved.

It was not a normal door.

It was a hidden panel.

A section of wood the same color as the wall, so perfectly camouflaged that I had never noticed it in my entire life.

Alejandro pushed the panel.

A narrow crack opened.

Enough for a thin person to pass through.

On the other side there was no wall.

There was space.

A narrow, dark hallway that smelled of old damp and dust.

Alejandro entered.

And before closing it, he muttered something…

As if he were talking to someone inside.

“She’s already asleep.

The panel was closed.

I froze in bed.

I felt a buzzing in my head.

Suddenly the house ceased to be a house.

It was a scenario full of traps.

A body with secret organs.

I sat up suddenly.

My legs were shaking.

I waited in silence.

Nothing.

Just a distant sound.

Like something crawling under my feet.

Metal scraping concrete.

I swallowed hard.

Then I remembered Mom’s last week.

How he had tried to tell me something when I could barely breathe.

How he took my hand.

And he pointed down.

Towards the ground.

Towards the house.

As if the house were the enemy.

And I remembered his last clear words, almost a whisper:

“Never drink anything… that you have not seen prepared.

That night, I finally understood.

It wasn’t paranoia.

It was a warning.

I woke up barefoot.

I took my cell phone.

I put it on silent mode.

I turned the flashlight on to the minimum.

I walked to the closet.

The wall seemed perfect.

But now he knew where to look.

I ran my fingers slowly through the paint.

Until you feel a small crack.

I pushed where he did.

Nothing.

I tried higher up.

Nothing.

My hands were sweating.

Then I saw a detail on the lower plinth.

A small brand.

Like someone always pushes there.

I put my finger in.

I pushed.

Click.

The panel opened with a sigh of old wood.

The smell came out immediately.

Humidity.
Mold.
Dust.

And then some.

A chemical smell.

Chlorine.

As if someone cleaned too much.

I looked inside.

The corridor sloped down, like a throat leading to the stomach of the house.

There were steps of uneven cement.

Old pipes in the walls.

I went downstairs.

Every step seemed to scream even though it made no noise.

With the light of the cell phone I saw names written on th