The front entryway was round with a desk over to the side. The floors were dark-colored marble, and when he looked up past the spiraling stairwell, he could see all the way to the top floor. It was a magnificent structure, as architecture went, but with just a quick glance around, he returned his focus to what he could only assume was the area where one checked in or out.
“May I help you?” a rather stout woman with dark black hair and a countenance as wrinkled as her brow asked as he approached.
“Yes, madam. I’m here to visit my sister, Genevieve Edwards,” he replied, removing his hat, and giving a little bow, hopeful that his words sounded as confident as they needed to.
“Genevieve Edwards?” the woman echoed, her expression turning to surprise. “And who might you be?”
“Jacob Cawley,”
