The door swung open on quiet hinges, releasing a wash of warm light and the faint scent of polished cedar.
It wasn't dramatic, not loud, just a smooth motion that let the room reveal itself slowly, like it had nothing to prove.
The light spilled across the threshold and touched the stone floor of the hall, softening it.
"This will be your room," I said, stepping aside and gesturing inside.
Sophia walked past me without hesitation.
Her boots made almost no sound as they pressed into the woven rug, the fibers bending and then settling again.
She stopped near the center of the room, her eyes lifting first, then moving in a slow circle, taking everything in.
The high ceiling, the clean lines, the heavy curtains that framed the tall window.
Nothing about her reaction was exaggerated.
"That's really high end," she said.
Her tone was casual, like she was commenting on the weather, but I caught the slight lift of her brow, the pause before she spoke.
