“Stay here,” Morales instructed gently. “I’ll be right back.”
He ascended the stairs, each step deliberate and measured. At the top, a narrow hallway led him to a closed door. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he approached, anticipation and dread intertwining. He paused, listening for any signs of movement from within.
Deciding it was now or never, Morales knocked firmly on the door. When there was no response, he turned the handle slowly and pushed it open.
Inside, the room was dark, curtains drawn tightly shut. A figure lay sprawled on the bed, oblivious to the intruder in his domain. Morales took a cautious step forward, his eyes adjusting to the gloom. He could see the man now—a disheveled, gaunt figure with unkempt hair and sallow skin. Bottles of alcohol littered the nightstand, their contents long consumed.
