[of our own device]

WHO. Cora and Thomas
WHERE. Room Service.
WHEN. Morning

Another morning. Another day. Another guest. Cora was tired. It wasn't the cleaning. It was the repentance. A part of her had taken the position at the hotel to make up for her behavior and she bore it in stride, but this morning, she was just exhausted. She had the towels that had been requested beneath her arm, walking up to the room and rapping on the door three sharp times.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

It was like code. It had turned into code, those three slow knocks. She was the only housekeeper who did it just that way. Slow. Even. Spaced. Just enough to alert the guest that it was her.

"Housekeeping. I have the extra towels you ordered." She called out, shifting on her heels before she knocked again. She didn't have the patience for this. It was too early and she was already exhausted. She had a rip in her left stocking that was irritating her from an earlier engagement and she was knocking on the door of a guest she knew might want a little bit more than a few extra towels.

"Mr. Barnes."

Who: Thomas and Rosalie.
Where: Second Floor.
When: Very early morning.

( Thomas was no stranger to the small hours of the morning. )