Lucy spent the next day at the local archives, digging through blueprints from the 1930s. She found the original plans for the farmhouse, and her breath hitched. There, in faded ink, was a small “storeroom” that had been erased in later renovations.
Why would someone go through the trouble of bricking up a room so perfectly that it disappeared for eighty years? The mystery only deepened when she returned home to find Emma standing by the hollow wall.
“The wall was crying today,” Emma whispered, pointing to a damp spot near the baseboard. Lucy knelt and touched the moisture. It wasn’t water; it felt like a residue of something much older.
She realized she couldn’t live with the mystery anymore. She called a contractor, telling him she needed to investigate a possible “structural leak” behind the plaster.
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