HAZEL
I reached for the knob. My fingers closed around cool metal, and I twisted.
Nothing happened.
The door held fast, locked from the inside. My breath caught in my throat as reality crashed against expectation. Of course he'd locked it. Why wouldn't he? He was chained in there with his dead wife's ghost, vulnerable to anyone who might walk in during heat season.
I pressed my shoulder against the wood and pushed. The door rattled in its frame but didn't give. My broken plan reformed itself in seconds. Force, then. I'd use force.
I stepped back and threw my weight forward. The impact sent pain jolting through my shoulder, but something in the mechanism gave with a sharp crack. I hit it again. Wood splintered near the lock. One more shove and the door swung inward with a groan of protest, the frame damaged but functional enough to close again if needed.
The scent hit me before I'd even crossed the threshold.
