Focus, Arlo. Focus.

(ARLO)

I look around and shortly later, I find a pocket knife tucked away at the bedside table. I pick the door lock, my heart racing as I try to be as quiet as I can. I'm in constant worry of Tyler returning with the food, but soon, the lock clicks and the door opens.

I slip the knife into the pocket of my jeans and slowly open the door. It is very quiet and I strain my ears to hear if there's anyone around. The coast seems clear. My pulse pocks as I squeeze out the door.

I know nothing about the layout of this house, but some things are common. Like for instance I know the huge staircase in front of me leads down to the foyer where the front door is.