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.
She was heavily pregnant, her swollen stomach rising gently under the thin hospital gown covering her body.
My eyes traveled upward to her face, and my entire body went cold immediately.
