After some time, Don found himself standing outside the room that had been assigned to him.
The door was already open and a cool breeze drifted through the doorway, carrying the scent of flowers from the gardens below.
Somewhere deeper inside, faint sounds emerged from the bathroom.
The quiet clink of something being moved, water running briefly before stopping, and a cabinet door closing.
He stepped inside, finding that the room somehow looked even more organized than when he had left.
The bedding had been straightened until not a single crease remained. The decorative pillows sat perfectly aligned against the headboard.
Even the paintings appeared different. Not because they had changed, but because each frame now hung with exact precision.
The balcony doors remained open as moonlight spilled through them and stretched across the floor in pale strips.
Winter emerged from the bathroom carrying a small basket.
She paused when she noticed him.
