[ Alec inserts the key into the hole and turns. He’s rewarded with a satisfying click, and the bookcase swings away. It does scrape the floor a bit, and in the relative silence of the study, the noise sounds louder than it probably is. Alec makes a face, waiting a moment to make sure no one is coming to investigate the sound before peering in.
What’s in the hidden little room is… well, it’s frankly more than Alec bargained for.
It’s a small space, barely bigger than a closet, but the walls are plastered with photographs of a smiling brunette, clearly taken without her knowledge. Mostly the pictures feature just her, but on the rare occasion they do not, the other party has either been torn out or scribbled over angrily in ink. Letters sit in piles on an old crate in the center of the room, though some are pinned to the walls as well- everything from flowery love letters from the doctor, as evidenced by the handwriting, to pleas for help in a flowing, feminine script. Please, they say. Please save my husband. ]
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What’s in the hidden little room is… well, it’s frankly more than Alec bargained for.
It’s a small space, barely bigger than a closet, but the walls are plastered with photographs of a smiling brunette, clearly taken without her knowledge. Mostly the pictures feature just her, but on the rare occasion they do not, the other party has either been torn out or scribbled over angrily in ink. Letters sit in piles on an old crate in the center of the room, though some are pinned to the walls as well- everything from flowery love letters from the doctor, as evidenced by the handwriting, to pleas for help in a flowing, feminine script. Please, they say. Please save my husband. ]
Well, this is… creepy.