The door rattled in its frame, as whoever was on the other side grappled with the handle. Pheobe stifled a screamed and stepped away from the door, fearing that it would only be a matter of seconds before the creature would be standing face to face with her.
Suddenly, a shrill cry filled her ears. The door was still.
Shaking, she removed the key from the lock and peered through the empty keyhole. When she plucked up the courage to open her eye and survey the sight before her, she found nothing. There was no dust creature, no Mrs Appletree. Nothing.
The only difference Pheobe noticed was the streak of dawning sun that grazed the carpet through the half-open curtain. An odd grey pile lay in the streak of golden sunlight, a pile that looked remarkably like year-old dust...
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