He slid it into the keyhole.

It went in smoothly all the way.

He turned his wrist to the right.

A thick iron latch clicked inside the door frame with a sound like a hammer hitting an anvil.

Nate pushed the heavy oak door open three inches.

The smell of dry lime plaster, old wallpaper paste, and cold pine drifted out onto the porch.

Nate stared into the dark hallway for five seconds without moving his feet.

“Capable,” he said.