The stranger grabbed her arm.

“Don’t make a sound.”

She ripped free.

“Who are you?”

Another crash came from inside.

The dog backed against her legs, growling so deeply she barely recognized him.

The stranger looked at the tiny key in her hand.

“I found your dog running three streets away.”

She stared at him.

“He never runs away.”

“I know.”

Her breath caught.

“What does that mean?”

The man swallowed.

“He kept leading me back here. Then running away again.”

The front door handle stopped moving.

Silence.

The woman looked down at the note.

“Who put this on his collar?”

The stranger shook his head.

“It was already there.”

Her phone suddenly vibrated.

A security alert.

Basement door opened.

Her face lost all color.

“That’s impossible.”

“Why?”

She looked at him, terrified.

“My house doesn’t have a basement.”

The dog suddenly barked once and pulled hard toward the side of the house.

They followed him to an old wooden panel hidden behind overgrown bushes.

The tiny key fit the lock.

The woman’s hands shook as she turned it.

Behind the panel was a staircase descending underground.

And taped to the first step was a photograph of her sleeping in her own bedroom.

The date on it was yesterday.

The stranger stepped backward.

The woman stared into the darkness.

Then her own voice came from somewhere below.

“Don’t come down.”