The girls and the puppy were the only ones on the main hail of the gloomy second floor of the Land Residence. No one of the workers and maids showed their dead faces as the trio crossed below the colonial arches above and the paintings of important artists from the former century at both parallel walls.
They reached the bottom, where three colonial doors of mahogany wood stood in a row. Both of the girls leaned and crouched at each side of the door in the middle, like a pair of police officers about to break in into the lair of a wanted criminal.
Rowie was like one of their avid german-Shepard dogs. He took his stance next to Vanilla.
"So, here we are," She whispered as she leaned her head down. The light of the citrine was the only thing illuminating the black and cold place. "Carol must be inside. She must be snoring like a bear at this hour," She checked Avrevm Horologivm. 12:41 AM.
