The first thing that stayed with me wasn’t the warning itself, but the way she said it. As the parents hurried out the door, keys jangling and coats half on, the mother leaned close and whispered, “Don’t go into the basement.” She smiled right after, like it was nothing more than a quirky house rule, and thanked me again for watching the kids. I nodded, waved them off, and told myself not to overthink it. I’d babysat plenty of times before. Every house had its oddities….CONTINUE READING BELOW
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