A bookshelf made from an old piano. A plain pot with several pussy willow branches. Orange and green books, a pair of headphones, a metronome, a ukelele, and several vinyl records


With one more glance around the room, you grab the scale off the shelf.  You hear a faint whisper coming from it, still We’re here because we’re here because we’re here because we’re here… but as soon as you step out of Willow, the song stops.

You toss the scales to Fitzy.  “I know where we’re going this time.” And you do. You sense that the murder’s excitement in laying this hunt mounted in the same way yours has been as you solve it.  You realize that you are excited to reach the end, and not only because you are desperate to solve the case. You know that there is something waiting for you, and you alone, when you reach the end.