Room 406, late afternoon

Wyatt had left early yesterday morning, promising to return soon. Isabel had tried not to panic as her increasingly frantic calls went unanswered. She'd tried to convince herself that his phone was dead, that they were just engrossed in whatever project they were working on but talking to Johnny made it obvious that wasn't the case.

Then the letters came. One from Wyatt, one from Andrew.

A visit to Chris confirmed he'd gotten that same news. And that there didn't seem to be any magical way to get them back.

She made a few more calls to check up on people, wondering who else wasn't going to to answer.

Frustrated and angry, Isabel decided the best way to not think was to clean.

Loud music was blaring and the air smelled of pine cleaner.

The door, despite what she promised Chris, was open.