The wooden stairs groaned beneath the old, worn boots of a shaking man. His eyes, drowned in lack of sleep and fear, remained on the door that awaited him at the top of the grand staircase that curved down to the floor. His dirty, shaking hands wrung his hat, breathing heavily. Forcing his lips into a thin line, he held his breath and took a step up to the door. He raised a hand into a first, ready to knock, but hesitating. His ears were only able to pick up the sound of a crackling fire on the other side of the door, and that terrified him.