A brief silence ensued as we continued along the spacious corridor, which had rooms with closed doors on both sides. The middle way was wide enough to contain extra rooms. The tiled floor beneath our feet was shown with a sparkle that said it had been scrubbed daily, perhaps twice a day.
The walls were sparkling as well. Everything seemed perfectly in order. Antonio must be prominent on cleanliness, I reasoned. For each room we passed, I longed to slip behind the closed doors and find out what it contained.
I wanted to pull each knob and fill my curiosity with the answer of whether he was hiding something dirty in there. If the rooms were securely closed, then it only meant one thing.
Why would one man have so many rooms if he wasn't hiding something?
'Don't be stupid, Eve; most weal
