Page 245 of Bound By Crimson
Click.
The attic door shut. Locked from the outside.
Lyric flinched—but only for a second.
She closed her eyes. Inhaled deep.
Then turned back toward the attic.
Let her lock me in.
There’s more than one door out of here.
There has to be.
Chapter Ninety-Two
The Other Way Out
The attic was massive.
Wider than she remembered. Longer than she thought possible. It didn’t just hover above the house—it sprawled like a skeleton of everything that Thornwick tried to hide.
She stepped lightly, weaving past broken dressers and covered furniture, ducking under beams thick with cobwebs. Dust hung in the air like smoke.
It smelled like old wood and locked-up memories.
She kept going.
Her eyes scanned the far walls.
And then she saw it.
A low door. Smaller than the others. Almost part of the wall.
She crouched.
No handle. Just a warped edge and rusted hinges.
Her fingers slipped under the lip and pulled.
The wood resisted, groaning under years of disuse—but finally, it cracked open.
Behind it—
A stairwell.
Steep. Narrow. Cramped.
It dropped down into darkness at a sharp angle.
The stairs were old, uneven. Some steps looked thinner than the rest, nearly slanted.
One wrong move, and she’d fall.
She hesitated only for a breath.
Then slipped inside and started down.
