No welcome. No warning beyond that. No explanation.
But the east hallway was exactly where the locked room waited.
For the next three days, you obeyed.
You cleaned the glass walls until the city lights looked like stars trapped outside. You polished silver nobody used. You changed sheets in guest rooms that smelled of emptiness. You dusted shelves full of awards, photographs, and framed magazine covers showing Rodrigo before the tragedy.
In those pictures, he had been different.
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