Six-year-old Liza should have been wrapped in warmth and love — but instead, she learned to wait in silence. Her parents often left her alone, saying they were “running errands.” Each time, they promised to return soon. But “soon” always stretched into days.

This time, autumn winds howled outside as they hurried out the door. On the table, they left only half a loaf of bread and a bottle of water.
“Be patient, we’ll be back soon. Don’t leave the house, or it will be bad for you,” her mother said, pulling on her coat. The door clicked shut.

At first, Liza believed them. She counted the minutes, whispered to her dolls, “Mommy will be back soon.” But hours turned into days. She wrapped herself in a thin blanket, hid under the table to escape the cold, and scraped every last crumb from the bread bowl.

The nights were the worst. She covered her ears as the wind banged the shutters. Rats rustled beneath the floorboards. Sometimes she thought she heard footsteps in the hall. “Mommy is here… Mommy will come…” she whispered into the darkness. But there was no answer.

On the sixth day, the door opened. Her parents stumbled in laughing, as if nothing had happened. But then they saw something that froze their smiles.
What awaited them inside that cold, dark house… would change everything.