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Inside was a modest space—clean, but clearly utilitarian. A single bed sat against the wall, beside a small washroom tucked into the corner. Shelves lined one side, neatly stacked with cleaning supplies, towels, and linens. It looked just like a normal hotel room—only with brooms and mop buckets instead of suitcases.

Anna stepped in and slowly scanned the room. “Was this room here before you bought the property?”

Charles gave a thoughtful nod. “It was definitely here before. I remember it when we were surveying the building. But I honestly don’t recall what it was originally used for—maybe it’s always just been a janitor’s room. Nothing special.”

His tone was light, but Anna’s eyes lingered on the room a moment longer, as if trying to read a story hidden in its silence. Then Charles gave a polite gesture toward the stairs. “Shall we head down for dinner?” he said smoothly.

They then followed Charles back down the quiet stairwell, the soft echo of their footsteps filling the space. Once on the first floor, the warm glow from the dining hall welcomed them like a balm after the cool, sterile air of the upper floors.

The room was elegant but inviting—rich wooden panels, flickering candlelight, and the faint scent of herbs and roasting meat. Anna took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day settle slightly from her shoulders.

As they were seated, Officer Russo leaned in quietly. “This place... it holds a lot of history. And probably a lot of secrets.”

Anna nodded, her mind already racing with questions for tomorrow. But for now, the gentle clink of cutlery and the murmur of soft conversation gave them a small moment of respite before the real work began.