The Secret of the Locked Door

Previously

…He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small, intricately carved wooden box. He opened it, revealing a collection of old photographs, their edges softened by time. He sifted through them, his fingers moving with a practiced familiarity. “This town,” he said, holding up a faded sepia photograph of Oakhaven’s main street, bustling with horse-drawn carriages and figures in long skirts and bowler hats, “has a long memory. It remembers every joy, every sorrow, every secret. And some secrets,” he tapped the photograph with a fingertip, “are etched into the very foundations