Romy Reiner thought she was doing something simple — letting a massage therapist onto the property to see her parents. It was an ordinary courtesy, the kind you perform without thinking. But when she arrived at the Brentwood home where she had spent her childhood, she felt a shift in the air: a locked gate that shouldn’t have been locked, a stranger waiting anxiously, and a silence that pressed against her chest. She walked through the doorway expecting a minor inconvenience. Instead, she stepped into a nightmare that would reshape her life forever. Continue reading…
