The stares that followed him were no longer curious or judgemental.
They were cautious.
The third floor was quieter. Refined. Lantern light glowed softly along carved wooden walls, casting golden patterns across intricate designs. The music below was distant here, muffled by thick carpets and closed doors. Laughter drifted occasionally from behind polished frames.
He walked down the corridor with measured steps.
At the far end, the door to the moonlit suite stood slightly ajar.
Faint laughter echoed from within.
Old.
Cheerful.
Unrestrained.
Bruce paused for half a second.
Then he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The door opened without a sound.
