My teenage daughter is staying in a hotel for the first time. She's there on a school trip with her classmates. She sent me a picture and said there's a strange hole at the foot of the bed, covered with cushions. I can't figure out what it's for or why it's there.

Elena was sitting on her living room couch, the television murmuring a true-crime documentary in the background, when her phone buzzed. It was Maya. Her sixteen-year-old daughter was away on her very first independent trip—a four-day high school journalism conference in Chicago.

Mom, look at this. Attached: 1 Image

Elena tapped the photo. It was a poorly lit shot of a standard, slightly dated double hotel room. Two matching floral comforters, a generic landscape painting bolted to the wall, and a particle-board desk. But at the foot of the bed closest to the window, the heavy wooden base of the bed frame had a bizarre, rectangular cutout—a dark, hollow gap about two feet wide. Stranger still, three decorative throw pillows had been shoved tightly into the opening, as if trying to plug a leak.

What is that? Maya’s next text read. The pillows were already like that when we checked in. Chloe said it looks like a tunnel. We pulled one out and it just goes deep under the mattress. It’s creepy.

Elena frowned, pinching her fingers to zoom in on the image. She had stayed in dozens of hotels for business over the years, but she had never seen a structural cavity at the foot of a bed. Was it an access panel for plumbing? A bizarre architectural flaw? A storage nook left uncovered?

She typed back: Probably just an old design for luggage storage, sweetie. Or maybe a trundle bed frame missing its drawer. Put the cushion back and don't worry about it. How was the opening ceremony?

Maya didn't reply about the ceremony. Chloe dropped her earring down there. We had to use our phone flashlights to find it. Mom, the hole doesn’t just stop under our bed. The wood partition is broken out. It goes straight through to the next room.

A sudden, cold prickle of unease danced down Elena’s spine. The true-crime narrator on the television suddenly felt much too loud. She muted the TV.

What do you mean it goes through? Elena typed, her fingers moving fast.

Like, there's a gap in the drywall under the frame, Maya replied. We can see the underside of the bed in Room 314. We can hear them talking. It's the boys from the track team staying next door. They don't know the hole is there because their side has a solid wood panel, but our side is wide open.

Elena sat up straight. The puzzle pieces instantly clicked into place, and the picture became sinister.

It wasn’t an architectural mistake. It wasn't a luggage nook. It was a......