Mark adjusted his dark blue tie in front of the tall mirror.
He was standing inside the suburban Dallas house his parents built thirty years ago.
Today was supposed to be the best day of his entire life.
He was marrying Sarah, the woman he had loved for four long years.
Sarah was wearing a beautiful lace bridal dress that cost thousands of dollars.
She looked completely perfect to everyone standing downstairs in the grand living room.
Yet Mark felt a strange coldness in his chest all morning.
His mother had passed away two years ago after a sudden illness.
She had left behind a large family estate and a valuable trust fund.
She had also left behind a famous set of pearl jewelry.
That pearl necklace had been missing since the day she took her final breath.
Mark had searched every closet and drawer in the entire Dallas home.
Sarah had always told him that the necklace was probably stolen by hospital workers.
Mark had believed her back then because he trusted her with his whole heart.
Now he stood in the hallway near the top of the dark oak stairs.
The sunlight washed through the high hallway windows, lighting up the framed flag artwork.
Suddenly, Mark heard heavy, muffled weeping coming from the far end of the hall.
The sound was coming from the old guest bedroom that remained locked all year.
Mark froze as his heavy shoes clicked on the polished floorboards.
He walked quickly down the hall toward the plain white room door.
Sarah: Mark, where are you going right now?
Mark turned around quickly as Sarah ran toward him in her long dress.
Her high heels clicked loudly against the hardwood floor.
Her light face was pale, and her blue eyes were filled with pure terror.
Mark: Someone is crying inside my mother's old guest room.
Sarah: No, nobody is in there at all.
Mark: I can hear weeping right through the white wood.
Sarah: It is just the old air conditioning unit blowing air.
Mark: Air conditioners do not sound like a crying woman, Sarah.
Sarah: Stop!
Sarah: Don't open it!
Sarah reached out and grabbed his blue jacket sleeve with frantic force.
Her fingernails dug into the expensive fabric of his suit jacket.
Mark stared at her shaking hands with deep confusion.
Mark: Why are you so terrified of a locked guest room?
Sarah: Our wedding starts in less than twenty minutes!
Sarah: Everyone is waiting downstairs in the backyard right now.
Mark: I have to know!
Mark shook off her grip with a firm and determined motion.
He turned back to the white wooden door handle.
He grabbed the cold metal knob and slowly turned it to the right.
The heavy white door creaked slowly as it swung open into total darkness.
A sudden cold draft rushed out into the warm sunlit hallway.
Mark took one step forward into the threshold of the dark room.
Suddenly, a thin hand reached out from the shadow along the floor.
The fingers slid a long strand of white pearls onto the marble doorstep.
The polished pearls clinked loudly against the hard floor.
Mark gasped in shock as he recognized the exact pearl necklace instantly.
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