Heading straight for his suite, I knocked on his door, but received no answer. Strange. His schedule was clear this morning; he should be in there.
I tried the handle, but found it locked. That was even stranger—Isaac never locked his door during the day. He claimed it made him feel “trapped”.
On a hunch, I returned to my own room and made my way to the hidden door that connected our suites. I carefully pushed the racks of clothes out of the way and reached for the panel that concealed the door.
But I stopped short when I heard muffled voices coming from his room. Isaac was definitely in there, and he wasn’t alone. I heard a female voice, which piqued my curiosity, so I pressed my ear to the wall in an attempt to make out what was being said.
“…absolutely gorgeous,” a femal
