Stopping at the thirty-first step Quentin hunkers down and starts to examine it, there was truly nothing to make it stand out. "Even the score?" He mutters under his breath as he runs his fingers over the step. Of course, there was no clue on the step. The question at present was who might spot the flat stone that was off to the side of the stairs, about even with the thirty-first step and half-buried in the dirt. The flat stone that looked a bit like an extra step and had, if one were to investigate, a musical note etched into it.