A price

With a sense of trepidation, Mrs. Harrison stepped over the threshold into the dimly lit foyer of the house. The air seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment, thick with an unspoken tension that hung between them like a suffocating fog.

The man closed the door behind her with a heavy thud, the sound reverberating through the silence of the room. Mrs. Harrison's heart hammered in her chest as she followed him further into the house, her senses on high alert as she braced herself for what was to come.

They entered a dimly lit sitting room, the only source of light coming from a single lamp in the corner. The man motioned for Mrs. Harrison to take a seat on the worn leather sofa, his eyes never leaving her as she obeyed, her hands trembling in her lap.

"So, Mrs. Harrison," he began, his voice low and menacing. "What brings you to my doorstep in the dead of night?"