Following her ground floor excursion and the discovery of the odd Polaroid, Rae had returned to her room for a quick check on the network. Little enough had been posted in her few hours' absence that she was able to quickly catch up. The source of Pam's earlier discomfort, and the photograph now resting in the back pocket of her jeans, were both revealed by Pam's own post. Rae smiled in the relative privacy of her own room, and tapped out a quick, private comment to Pam herself. After a brief conversation with her neighbor, she scrolled quickly through other posts, landing at last on one that referenced something odd on the fourth floor. It seemed her tour of the mansion had not quite concluded. She posted a hasty response to the thread, then locked the computer and headed back into the hall. Pam's door was closed, and Rae saw little enough reason to upset her further. She slipped the photograph under the door, tapping it forward and further into the room with her fingertips. Then she rose with a faint creak of her boots, and headed upstairs.
She paused at the fourth floor landing. The bedroom doors she could see were all closed. She wondered which were occupied, or if all of them were; it was a large house, but who knew where all twenty-something of them were being kept? She cleared her throat as she stepped deeper onto the floor, her gaze casting about for whomever she had agreed to meet. She realized too late she had not gotten a name from the person on the forum. Sheepish, she tucked her hands into her back pockets, rocking back on her booted heels.
"Hello?" she called. Her voice echoed off the high ceilings. "I'm supposed to meet someone here?"