Chapter 5

Charlotte pushes open the door on the right, relieved that the second suite bears little resemblance to the first. Though the shape of the space is similar and there is also a balcony from which she can see the ocean, the walls are a light pink, and rather than being furnished for deviant sex, it gives more the sense of the bedroom of an academic, albeit a disorganized one. Several bookshelves are stacked, not just with old volumes, but rocks and crystals, empty bottles and vases, elaborately designed bowls and boxes, intricate jewelry, and a host of objects distributed throughout with no seeming purpose or organization, scattered haphazardly as if placed somewhere when acquired and never moved afterwards. Amongst the many mirrors is one on the wall behind the head of the bed, though thankfully, none on the ceiling. A fireplace sits in a far corner.

“This must be Minerva’s room,” Alex says, bursting in and noticing the assortment of artifacts, which he attributes to Minerva’s fascination with mysticism. He picks up a silver ball and tosses it back and forth between his hands, curious about its purpose, then replaces it and picks up a book, flipping through the Latin pages. The chaos of the room reminds him of his own way of organizing thoughts. He glances out over the balcony. “Look how close we are to the ocean. Remember the theory that they walked into the ocean together? And then they said the house was too close to the shore? That’s so true. I get it now. Look, there’s like, a steep precipice that the house is sitting on. To get to the ocean, they would have had to either climb down the rock wall, or go to a spot on the shore that’s closer to the water. There were cops everywhere looking specifically for them. There’s no way they could have done either of those things without being seen. That scratches that theory.”