Noel stood frozen in front of the door, one hand still wrapped around the brass knob. He twisted it again—slow at first, then harder—until the metal bit into his palm. Nothing. The lock refused to budge. He rattled it—once, twice—loud enough that the sound echoed in the quiet room. Still nothing. He stepped back and stared at the keyhole. Empty. The key that had been dangling there all night—the same key the maids had used to leave just minutes ago—was gone.
His heart gave a sharp, painful thud against his ribs.
He turned slowly and looked at Rowan.
Rowan stood near the foot of the bed. His grey eyes were wide with confusion, hands already reaching toward the knob. He stepped forward, tried it himself—twisted, pulled, pushed.
The door stayed shut.
He frowned—deep lines forming between his brows.
"The maids just left," he said, voice low and uncertain. "I heard the key turn. I watched them walk out."
Noel nodded slowly as his jaw tightened.
