Using my phone flashlight, I lowered my head toward the floor and directed the bright beam into the darkness.
At first, I noticed something unusual about the rug itself because it seemed cut precisely along the bed’s outline.
Confused, I pushed the edge slightly and felt smooth resistance instead of rough concrete beneath my fingers.
There was a thick transparent glass panel installed directly into the floor under our bed.
Dust lightly covered its surface, so I wiped it with the edge of my wrapper to see clearly beneath it.
What I saw below did not resemble an artifact, a wooden box, or anything connected to harmless tradition.
There was a brightly lit underground room beneath the glass, sterile and white like a hospital theater.
Inside that room lay a woman on a medical bed, connected to an intravenous drip that fed slowly into her arm.
Her breathing appeared slow and controlled, as if she were sedated but still alive.
