Your steps are slow. Here and there the roof under your feet groans, and shingles shift and scrape together. The wind has gotten cold now, and the sun slips behind a cloud. Curiosity pushing fear aside, you peak your head over the chimney’s lip, and take a look down into the empty house. Thoughts race as the long, narrow flue dips down into darkness . . . the heart of the house, just out of sight.