The master bedroom

The only door somewhat ajar was his own bedroom - that which Vivien and yourself shared. At the furthest end of the hallway, around a steep curve. You had been heading towards the staircase that lead further into the upper recesses of the house when you had noticed the bedroom door askew. Nearing it, you found himself gripped by the anticipation of movement. Some slight cognitive spark that makes you stop and listen. Beyond the door, there was the unmistakable feeling of activity.