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What’s going on?
Arthur jogged to the kitchen and returned with the keyring the realtor had left behind. “Let’s try them,” he said. One by one, they tested each key, but none fit. Not even close. The doors remained stubbornly shut. But the noises continued behind them—soft creaks and sudden movement, like someone pacing. Rose’s hands trembled slightly as she looked back at Arthur. “What is going on?
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