Behind Closed Doors... pt.2

I head back to the bedroom, because I remember seeing one of the drawers slightly open on the vanity. Entering the room for the second time, maybe it is because I have seen the other rooms, it looks more pitiful than before. Maybe it is because I can now understand the haste with which the needlework was tossed aside and form a guess as to the events which this hall has seen. Either way, it's just… Pitiful.

Walking over to the vanity, I can see that my memory was not fooling me. One of the drawers on the left is open a crack. Pulling on the handle of the drawer is not helping me make any progress. It's stuck. In the end, I use one of my switchblades to dig around, in the creases, and cut away or break anything holding the drawer in place. The drawer still won't budge. That means that something inside of the drawer must be what is stopping it from opening.

It takes me a minute to unjam the drawer, but I get done faster than most would have, I'd like to think. Just because I am in the Mafia, doesn't mean I am an exception to the unsaid rule of 'A jammed drawer is the bane of anyone's existence'. One point for the drawer.

Maybe make that two points for the drawer… Ugh. There is no key. It is full of hair brushes and old makeup… Where is that key? I'd prefer not to break the lock off of the door, because that is a bit too obvious for me. I'd rather get in and out of the room without any notice or evidence of an intruder. I'll continue my search of the room.

While doing so, I find myself peering at the needle project on the couch. I am able to recognise it as needlepoint and on the mesh is a threaded phoenix, missing a wing, that will never be finished. Typically I would just ignore something like this but what catches my eye is that a name is stitched into the corner of the mesh. Pheona.

With that I rush to the side of the bed. With what was stitched into the mesh and her name, I have a hunch that she would hide it right about here… Ah, I was right. I did see a phoenix carved into the bed frame. I'm feeling around for a kind of hidden compartment or something of the sort. Ugh, there's nothing. I hit the bed frame, letting a little bit of my minute frustration show. Clang.

I see a key resting on the floor by my leg. Picking it up, I get out of my kneeling position. Where did this come from? I check the bed frame again, and I'm unable to see where it could have appeared from. There are no dents the shape of a key in the wood, no compartment has opened, and, from where the key fell, I am able to tell that the key might not have come from the bed at all. There is no reason for me to stay in this room to find out where it came from, so I will just blame it on luck… not something I have a lot of.