Lena had always been curious about the old house on the hill. It stood at the edge of the town, its windows darkened and its paint peeling from years of neglect. Children in the neighborhood often dared each other to go near it, but Lena felt a strange pull that she couldn’t quite explain. One warm summer afternoon, she decided to explore the house, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. As Lena approached the house, the grass crunched softly beneath her feet. The front door was slightly ajar, creaking as it swayed in the breeze. She hesitated for a moment, then pushed the door open, stepping inside. The air was thick with dust and the scent of old wood. Sunlight filtered through broken panes, casting long shadows across the creaking floorboards. Lena’s eyes widened as she took in her surroundings. The house was filled with relics of the past—faded paintings hanging crookedly on the walls, a cracked mirror leaning against the fireplace, and shelves lined with dusty books. She reached out to touch a fragile porcelain doll that sat on a windowsill, marveling at how delicate it looked despite its age. Suddenly, Lena heard a faint sound coming from upstairs—a soft whispering that seemed almost like a voice. Her heart pounded, but her curiosity outweighed her fear. She carefully tiptoed up the staircase, each step groaning beneath her weight. At the top, she found a narrow hallway lined with closed doors. One door was slightly open, revealing a small room bathed in golden light. Inside, Lena saw an old trunk in the corner. She approached it and lifted the lid, revealing a collection of letters tied with a red ribbon and a faded photograph of a young girl with bright eyes and a mischievous smile. As Lena gently untied the ribbon and unfolded the letters, she felt a strange warmth inside her, as if she had uncovered a secret from the past. Reading the letters, Lena learned they were written by a girl named Ella, who had once lived in the house many decades ago. Ella described her adventures, her dreams, and her longing to explore the world beyond her small town. She wrote about her best friend, a boy named Sam, and how they would spend afternoons dreaming of the cities they would visit and the stories they would tell. Lena felt a connection to Ella—her words resonated deeply within her. It was as if Ella’s spirit had somehow remained in the house, waiting to be discovered. As she carefully placed the letters back in the trunk, Lena realized that the house wasn’t a place of ghosts or fear but a treasure trove of stories from the past. When Lena finally stepped outside, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the hill. She looked back at the house one last time, feeling grateful for the adventure and the stories she had uncovered. From that day on, Lena visited the house often, not out of fear, but because she understood that every old building holds stories waiting to be told—stories that connect us across time and remind us that we are never truly alone when we carry the stories of those who came before us.

Answer the following questions based on the passage above.