As the door swung open, Officer Morales was immediately struck by the oppressive atmosphere within the house. The air was stale, and the dim light that filtered through the drawn curtains cast eerie shadows on the walls. Jimena led him inside, her small figure moving with a sense of urgency and trepidation.
The entryway was cluttered with shoes and bags, but it was the living room that first caught Morales’s attention. The room was sparsely furnished, with a worn-out couch and a small television set. Stacks of newspapers and magazines were piled in the corners, adding to the sense of neglect. However, it was the pervasive silence that was most unsettling, as if the house itself was holding its breath.
Jimena paused, her eyes darting toward a closed door at the end of the hallway. “That’s where he keeps us,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
