*Shelby*
Later on that evening, I marched across the cool marble floor of the resort's grand lobby, my footsteps echoing off vaulted ceilings adorned with vintage chandeliers.
Finding Mr. Cavalier behind the reception desk, I leaned in, lowering my voice to a hushed whisper. "Mr. Cavalier, there have been items missing from several guest rooms. Do you have any idea what could be going on?"
His response was not one of surprise, but rather a somber acceptance as he nodded his head gravely.
"I was afraid this might happen," he admitted, his eyes darkened by some unspoken knowledge.
"Afraid what might happen?" I pressed, my curiosity piqued by his cryptic demeanor.
For a moment, his gaze lingered on an old portrait hanging behind me, its subject a stern-faced ancestor of the resort's founding family.
"The resort has belonged to the same family for generations," he said, his voice trailing off as if caught in the webs of the past. A past I felt we didn’t know enough about.