POV Mia
I hear the keys hit the floor before I see them.
Rosa is ahead of me in the third-floor corridor, arms full of folded towels, and the whole keyring just slips from her fingers and crashes onto the hardwood in a loud, jangling mess. She makes a frustrated sound and crouches down to gather them.
I crouch too, helping pick them up one by one.
That's when I see it.
A key I've never noticed before. Small. Gold. Old-looking, as it belongs to something that was locked a long time ago and forgotten about. It's different from all the other keys on the ring; those are modern, silver, and practical. This one looks like it came from a different era entirely.
I hold it up. "What's this one?"
Rosa glances at it. Something moves across her face, not guilt exactly, but awareness. Like she knows exactly what that key opens and has been waiting to see if anyone would ask.
"Storage room," she says simply. "End of the hall."
