The Romano family had only lived in the old countryside mansion for three weeks. Built more than a century earlier, the house was famous for its polished oak floors, towering ceilings, and endless stories whispered by the locals. Most people dismissed those stories as nothing more than legends.
Marco Romano certainly did.
After purchasing the property, he planned to renovate every room before moving his family in permanently. Construction tools lay scattered across the living room while workers prepared to replace sections of the aging wooden floor.
That afternoon, only Marco, his wife Vittoria, and their six-year-old daughter Sofia were inside the house.
Sofia sat quietly on the smooth wooden floor, arranging her dolls in a circle.
Without looking up, she suddenly spoke.
"Daddy..."
Marco smiled while sorting through renovation plans.
"What is it, sweetheart?"
"My brother is crying under the floor."
The room instantly fell silent.
Marco slowly looked toward his daughter.
She wasn't frightened.
She wasn't joking.
She simply stared at the floor as though listening to someone only she could hear.
Vittoria nervously laughed.
"She's imagining things."
Marco tried to smile.
"Probably."
Still...
Something about Sofia's expression unsettled him.
She placed one small hand against the floorboards.
"He's scared."
A cold silence settled over the room.
Marco walked toward his daughter and knelt beside her.
"Sweetheart... you don't have a brother."
Sofia looked up with complete certainty.
"He says his name is Emilio."
The name sent a strange chill through Marco.
Neither he nor Vittoria had ever mentioned that name in front of Sofia.
Because years earlier...
Before Sofia was born...
Vittoria had lost a baby during pregnancy.
The child they had planned to name Emilio.
Marco forced himself to stay calm.
"She's imagining things," he whispered again.
Then...
A faint scratching sound echoed beneath the floor.