He knew it was his room because on the wooden cupboard doors hung a light grey suit coat, buttoned up the middle, as if it had been just plucked from the cupboard. Nox could vividly recall Zanobi wearing it, as he had done at every Sunday night dinner that everyone had to attend. He’d despised the smugness plastered on Zanobi’s face as he’d poured his discriminating gaze over the hundred or so boys sharing the meal with him. The fact that the jacket was still there was a testament to the speed with which the building had been vacated. So much was left behind. Once again, Nox pondered the fact that the building hadn’t been vandalised and the remaining pieces of furniture and clothing taken. With the amount of horrors that went on here, maybe nobody had wanted to come back. The double bed was still made up with a blue and white checked duvet curved over the sides and up over the pillow. The powerful urge to lie flat on a real bed gripped him. He sat on the mattress and was surprised when it didn’t creak.
