In hindsight, he might be surprised that there were not more strange smells, that the room did not look every inch the mess that Olivia sounded. But, Roderick had priorities! Under the bed? In the closet? In the closet was easier to justify to Darius than under the bed – after the 26th foreign coin ‘lost’ under one, it began to look suspicious.

His eyes landed on the mirror, and he almost groaned aloud. It was the risk he took, Roderick supposed: wherever he turned in Olivia’s domain, the ghost of a fiance not even dead was apt to haunt every corner. He had not realized just how solidly this ‘ghost’ permeated every corner of her life.

Roderick cast a brief look of judgment upon the alcohol bottles. He had no idea what they actually were: just that his sister could easily drink him under the table. Hmph.

He opened the closet door. His face fell further. He stepped in anyway.

… What was that smell? Was that cologne? It smelled fantastic. Until that faint, faint smell of woman and alcohol wafted down the hall. Curse his lot in life, for he could practically smell a fart two blocks away and feel worse for it. He drew back against... whatever that cologne scent was coming from.