"I was thinking more along the lines of no one's come rushing us to drug us and put us back where we were," Cecilia admitted. That... probably said a lot about her. Honestly, the harder she thought about their situation, the more likely she was to go into full scale panic mode. She wanted to avoid that at all costs.
"Nothing about this makes any sense to me," she said instead. "I don't know what's going on, but I know I want out. I'd be pretty happy to put the pieces together and make sense of it somewhere I know to be safe." The marble floors of the foyer were cold on her bare feet, but there was something strangely comforting about it. She could move quietly this way, at least. She took a few tentative steps toward an archway, which proved to be positioned under a grand staircase. Ahead was the front door. Cecilia chewed at her bottom lip and looked back to Owen. "I'm guessing the kitchen's that way," she said, pointing across. "But there's the front door. Which way?"