Slipping on my heeled black boots, I took one more look in the mirror before leaving my suite. My soft black slacks and black tank top were covered with a long pink sweater. My hair was again piled on my head. Standing at the top of the staircase, I peered through the large window over the front door, wondering if my parents had arrived.

From the limited view of trees and sky it was impossible to know for sure. There were no voices below. A final destination called to me, a new curious thought. I peeked down the hallway toward Van’s suite. The double doors were closed.

As my heart rate picked up its pace, I walked up the steps to the third floor.

My heartbeat thumped against my chest as I twisted the doorknob to the one door at the top of the stairs. To my surprise, the door opened inward. With only the waning light from the windows, I saw what Van had described—nothing. The large third-floor room was empty with two closed doors. I went to one, and opened it. The door led to a small bathroom. That too was empty. The fixtures were present, but there were no towels or paper products. Back out into the large open space, I opened the second door and stepped into what was a small room, a closet without clothes racks or shelves.

Flipping the switch within, I stared. Against the wall was a leaning stack of framed artwork. Apprehensively, I went closer, taking in the piece facing the door. I didn’t recognize the artist’s name, but the picture seemed familiar. One by one, I moved the frames, taking in each piece. The artists’ names were different and some I’d heard before. All of the artwork was striking.

Why is it hidden away in an empty space?

Suddenly, my thoughts went back to my parents’ impending visit. Stepping back into the empty room, I turned off the light and closed the door to the artwork, deciding that while I could eliminate one unknown about Van from my list—the emptiness of the third-floor room—I’d also added more questions.

As I came to the top of the staircase going down to the main level, my pulse drummed in my ears as the reverberating sound of the piano floated to the level above.

I held my breath as the rich notes resonated through the entry.

Quietly, I made my way down the stairs, stopping on the bottom step and holding tightly to the banister. Closing my eyes, I listened to the melancholy melody as each note struck a string within my heart. If this were a movie, the chosen soundtrack would give me an ominous feel leading into our planned meeting.

Walking softly, I entered the living room.