Emma clutched the spiral pendant in her pocket as if its heat could somehow guide her.
From beyond the door, Gréta's voice called out again.
"Emma… don't leave me out here… I'm cold… I'm scared…"
Jessica leapt from the couch and rushed toward the door.
"We have to let her in!" she cried.
Emma stepped in front of her.
"No! Wait!"
Jessica sobbed.
"But she's our friend! We can't leave her out there!"
Emma's heart broke with every word.
But the pendant burned in her palm, hot and urgent—like a warning.
"Trust your instincts," Nóra whispered. "Something… something's wrong."
Another knock.
Louder. More demanding.
And the voice—it was changing.
"Emma… open the door… now…"
It had deepened.
Something cold and alien had crept into it.
Jessica trembled.
Emma slowly stepped back from the door.
"That's not Gréta," she said, her voice shaking. "No matter how much we want it to be… it's not."
Suddenly, a deafening bang rattled the door.
The whole house shook.
The doorknob twisted violently, as if something outside was trying to tear it off.
Jessica screamed and stumbled backward.
Emma and Nóra shoved the cabinet tighter against the door.
The pounding grew more frantic—like a giant fist hammering the wood.
But the cabinet held.
The door held.
And then—silence.
For minutes, all they could hear was their own breathing.
The house fell quiet again.
But Emma knew—
Out there, in the thick fog, something was still watching them.
And the spiral…
Its grip was tightening.
Not just around the house.
But inside them, too.