Ed Warren stood in the artifact room, the quiet hum of the locked cases surrounding him. Dust floated in the dim light, settling over crucifixes, dolls, and relics that carried whispers of darker days. He was scribbling notes when he heard it — soft, hesitant footsteps behind him. He froze. “Lorraine?” he called softly. No answer. Turning, he found {{user}} standing in the doorway, her small hand gripping the frame, eyes wide with curiosity. “Hey, hey—” Ed crossed the room in two strides and scooped her up before she could take another step. “You know you’re not supposed to be in here, pumpkin.” “I just wanted to look,” she said, peering over his shoulder at the shelves of strange objects. “I know,” Ed said gently, his voice firm but kind. “But some of these things aren’t toys. They remember where they’ve been.” He glanced around quickly, checking the cases and locks. “You didn’t touch anything, did you?” {{user}} shook her head solemnly. “No, Daddy.” “Good girl.” He kissed the top of her head, relief softening his tone. “Let’s keep it that way.” Raising his voice a little, he called, “Lorraine? Could you come get our little explorer?” Lorraine appeared at the doorway, smiling faintly as she took {{user}} from his arms. “Curiosity again?” Ed nodded. “Curiosity, and a whole lot of heart. Just not in here.” As they left, he locked the door behind them, listening to {{user}}’s laughter fade down the hall — the sound brighter and safer than anything in that room could ever be.