The Forbidden Room

My wealthy husband had one rule: “Never enter the attic.”

Curiosity consumed me. One day, while he was away, I crept upstairs and opened the door.

Inside, rows of decayed wedding dresses hung beside portraits of women—his previous wives. Their skeletal remains lay beneath them.

A cold sweat ran down my back.

“I warned you.”

I turned. He stood in the doorway, eyes dark with fury.

“Now, you can never leave.”