Mark stood near the staircase of his bright suburban home and looked down the quiet hallway.
The sun streamed through the front windows and lit up the clean marble floors.
His little boy, Toby, was toddling toward the locked wooden door at the end of the hall.
Toby reached his tiny hands up and rattled the shiny brass handle with all his strength.
The heavy wooden door did not budge an inch against the small boy's frantic efforts.
Toby let out a sad tearful cry that echoed softly against the tall white walls.
Mark walked closer and frowned as he watched his son struggle with the handle.
He felt a sudden cold chill run down his back for reasons he could not explain.
Sarah had locked that storage room three weeks ago when his mother came to stay with them.
She told him that the room held old fragile boxes from her late aunt's big estate.
Mark had trusted her completely because she always managed the household with careful detail.
He was a busy civil engineer who spent long hours working hard on regional bridge construction projects.
His career demanded constant attention, which left Sarah to handle the daily domestic routines.
He moved closer to Toby and reached out to gently quiet the sobbing child.
Toby kept pointing his small finger at the keyhole and whimpering in deep distress.
Mark leaned his head against the door frame and listened carefully to the silence inside.
He thought he heard a faint sound like someone taking a weak shuttering breath.
His heart started beating faster against his ribs as suspicion slowly crept into his mind.
He looked back toward the open living room where Sarah was setting the dining table.
She was wearing her neat red dress and looking as calm as she always did every afternoon.
Mark called her name aloud with a firm tone that made her turn around quickly.
Sarah rushed down the long hallway with quick light steps on the polished marble floor.
She pulled Toby away from the wooden door and held him tightly in her arms.
Her face looked slightly pale as she stared back at Mark with wide watchful eyes.
She told him firmly that the child was just tired and needed a long afternoon nap.
Mark stood his ground and demanded to know why the storage door was tightly locked today.
Sarah's hands shook just a bit as she adjusted Toby's light beige cotton outfit.
She insisted that important documents regarding their home mortgage were stored inside that dark space.
Mark did not believe the simple excuse anymore after seeing her sudden nervous reaction.
He asked her directly for the heavy brass key that usually stayed in her kitchen drawer.
Sarah claimed that she had misplaced the key somewhere in her large leather purse.
Mark stepped past her and felt the sharp edges of a key in her dress pocket.
He pulled the brass key out and held it up to the bright daylight.
Sarah gasped loudly and tried to grab his arm before he could reach the lock.
Mark inserted the key into the tumbler and turned it with a loud metallic click.