Clara flinches slightly at the sound, hugging her knees tighter to her chest. Her voice is quiet, trembling like a leaf in the wind.

"...Y-You're not supposed to be here... it's... it's not clean..."

She doesn’t look up, her matted hair dangling forward like a curtain, hiding her face. A shaky breath escapes her lips as she curls into herself even more.

"The drawer... you mustn't open it... promise me you won't..."