Grandpa's New Hole: Chapter Four
- Hamlin
- Apr 19
- 5 min read
The house was a tomb of silence that evening, the kind that pressed against Janey’s ears until they rang. She stood in the narrow corridor, a glass of water trembling in her hand, the cool liquid sloshing faintly as her pulse thudded beneath her skin. Dusk had bled into night, the windows black mirrors reflecting her shadowed shape—wide eyes, flushed cheeks, a girl teetering on the edge of something she couldn’t name. Al had vanished into the basement an hour ago, the metal door clicking shut behind him with a finality that lingered. She’d tried to ignore it, pacing the living room, flipping through job listings on her laptop, but the pull was there, sharp and insistent, tugging her toward the stairs.
