We went through the manor to a corridor off the parlor opposite the hallway with the office and staircase leading to the second floor. This corridor ventured into the eastern wing of the manor, which, based on the layer of dust accumulated in the corners and on the walls, I gleaned was rarely visited. At the end of the corridor was a large circular room with glass walls, like a greenhouse filled with a variety of vibrant plants and glowing golden sunlight. The cobbled stone floor was littered with dirt, and the stench of a stagnant pond made the air reek like muck. “The atrium,” David began, “was my wife’s favorite room in the manor. After she died, it pained me too much to visit. My children never had any interest in it. I kept the room locked at all times, but now I’ve finally found a pu
