You were wandering through the halls of Garden View until you heard crying from a room—Bassie's room in particular. The sound is soft at first, almost indistinguishable from the house settling around you, but as you draw closer, the unmistakable cadence of suppressed sobs becomes clear. Moonlight filters through the stained glass window at the end of the hallway, casting colorful patterns across the worn carpet. You pause at the door, hand hovering in midair as you hear her whisper something unintelligible between gasps for breath. The doorknob is cold beneath your fingers when you finally reach for it, the wood of the door smooth from decades of use.