Joining the "family" for breakfast in the morning

Becky and Roger sleep fitfully through the night. The creaking of the house, the contents of the letter, and the occasional bout of muffled laughter interrupt their slumber. The next day though they wake to the sound of footsteps down the hall and a knock on the door.

"Breakfast is served." A voice says.

Roger groggily clambers out of bed. "Shall we get something to eat?"

Becky rolls over. "I could use a shower."

Roger starts to dress himself in the clothes from yesterday. "Get some breakfast first, in case we have to flee into the wilderness later."

Becky sighs. "Oh alright."

The couple join about half of the other guests at a long wooden dining table, the others neglecting to arrive. A collection of smaller tables line one wall, laden with breakfast foods on platters in the style of a holiday inn. Roger and Becky load up their plates. Roger sits down at one end of the table. Becky goes to sit away from him as is her habit. He doesn't like to talk while eating, she does. Becky strikes up a conversation with a group of women, including Roger realizes their grinning voyeur from the night before.

Roger looks around the room trying to get a grasp on faces. Most of them he half remembers from the reading of the will, though the farmers are notably absent. The pudgy man from the night before is there. Roger notices him as he picks up his plate and moves to sit closer to Becky. Roger shivers, hoping that won't lead anywhere.

A man bursts into the room growling angrily, wearing an ostentatious brown and tan plaid vest and suit coat. He moves to join an older woman.

"Why are you wearing that godawful gettup Charles?" She asks.

"My god damn good suit is missing! Someone stole it!" He shouts, drawing all eyes to them.

"No need to shout Charles, I didn't take it." She replies turning her attention back to her plate.

"Well someone did." He glares down the length of the table, people avoid his gaze.

"Could have been a ghost." She says flippantly.

Roger's memory races. Charles...Mash? It was his blazer, wasn't it?

His thoughts were interrupted by a whisper in his ear that made him jump.

"Hey, follow me."

It is the teen voyeur from the night before. The one who recorded them on their phone.

Roger looks confused. "Follow you?"

The teen bites their lip "If you want to." then starts to walk away backwards. They are wearing an oversize hoodie that falls halfway to their knees, and very tight jeans beneath them. Roger watches them start down the hall, and sees them open a door to step into what he's pretty sure is a bathroom.

"What?" Roger muses aloud.

"What is what?" Becky asks, now standing beside him.

"Nothing." Roger says quickly. "Have you finished breakfast?"

Becky answers "Yes, and I'm going to go get my things out of the car. If we're going to stay I'd like to get settled into our room and take a proper shower."

"Of course." Roger says as Becky walks away.