Like someone else had picked up from another part of the house.
Ernest froze.
Camila stopped breathing.
The door began to open.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
The first thing visible wasn’t a face.
It was a hand.
Holding something metallic.
Small. Shiny. Wrapped in old tape.
Then Jason’s voice—soft, wrong:
“You should’ve let her sleep.”
The hallway light flickered.
The phone went dead.
Camila stepped back instinctively.
The door creaked open another inch—
Part 3 – The Ending
—and then red and blue lights exploded across the walls.
“POLICE! DROP IT!”
The command shattered the silence like glass.
Jason froze.
For the first time, uncertainty flickered across his face.
Behind him, officers flooded the hallway, weapons drawn. The metallic object clattered from his hand as one officer slammed him against the wall.
Ernest exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
Camila collapsed against him, shaking.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, holding her tight. “It’s over. I’ve got you.”
Jason shouted something—angry, desperate—but his words were drowned out by handcuffs clicking shut.