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“No reason.”

Except there was a reason.

The reason was the man standing there, in his hallway, writing things down. Leo itched to do something about it. It was the same urge he’d felt when Sandra came here with her clients.

All of this was wrong.

Keep them out.

A voice in his head said.

“One more room,” Nate said, flipping to a fresh page in his notebook. “Then the basement.”

“No,” Leo said without thinking about it.

Nate stopped with his pen on the page. “No?”

“There’s nothing down there,” Leo tried to explain his aversion. “It’s dark. And probably full of spiders.”

“The furnace is down there,” Nate said. “I need to have another look at it and take measurements.”

“Take them later.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

Nate studied him silently, as if he could uncover what secret Leo was hiding.

Good luck with that.

Leo himself didn’t know. What he did know was that Nate should not wander into the basement.

“Okay,” Nate said slowly. “What do you remember about the basement?”

“Nothing.”

“Why do you think I’ll hate it?”

“Everyone hates basements.”

“Leo.”

“I don’t remember anything.” The words came out too fast. “That’s the truth. There’s no memory. There’s no…” He stopped. How was he supposed to explain this feeling he couldn’t grasp? “People don’t go down there.”

“People.”

“Anyone. You.”

“Why not?”

“They just don’t!” Leo hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he did.

Nate was quiet for a moment. Then he closed the notebook and put the pen away, and for one second Leo thought that meant he’d won.

“I’ll be five minutes,” Nate said, and headed for the stairs.

Leo rushed after him. “Nate.”