Inside the Smithson’s country house, Rose followed Ethan up the stairs and down a corridor with too many white doors to count. He stopped in front of one toward the end, pausing with his hand on the handle. “You’re about to have a glimpse into my teenage lifestyle,” he said, and flung open the door.
Sprawled on Ethan’s bed was a bulging middle-aged man, fast asleep and snoring.
“Rose, meet Uncle Frank.” Ethan sighed. “He must’ve decided my room was as good a place as any to fall asleep.”
Rose giggled, taking in what she could of Ethan’s room before he closed the door. As it clicked shut, they tiptoed away, careful not to wake the sleeping man.
“We’ll have to take one of the guest rooms.” Ethan turned on his heel and headed back toward the beginning of the hall.
He opened a random door. Before Rose could peek inside, Ethan roared and rushed into the room. Rose made to follow him but stopped dead on the threshold. She raised a hand to cover her mouth as she stared at the scene before her eyes in shocked silence…