There's a sound like movement not far off, though Lucy doesn't think it's footsteps or anything like that. For that matter, she still doesn't know what anyone would be doing here at all. If it were the landlord, he would have answered her; anyone else might be trying to keep quiet, but as far as she can tell, nothing else seems off. It should be reassuring, like somehow, this is all a misunderstanding, and the door just happened to be open, a bloody handprint on it for no real reason. It's the opposite.

Hands twisting at her waist, she draws in a deep breath. Though she knows better than to let herself be wishing for the best here, she can't entirely shake what she wants to be the case, either. If nothing else, it won't hurt to find out. Swallowing hard, she takes a few steps farther inside, trying to keep her voice even when she speaks again, and to not let herself sound too hopeful. "Max?"