The Study

You check your pockets.

There are several crumpled up pieces of paper for some reason. You throw them on the ground, tempted to ignore them, until the handwriting catches your eye. They’re all written by the same hand.

That’s odd.

What’s more odd, though, is that even the scraps of notes all seem to have the same wording.

How didn’t you notice this before?

You pat down the rest of your pockets, hoping for a pencil or a pen, something to try and scribble on the back of a note with to try and piece the narratives together.

There isn’t a pen or pencil. You do, however, withdraw a small key.

There’s no way.

You place the key into the lock. You turn it with bated breath. Lo and behold, the lock clicks and the doorknob turns.

Unbelievable.