Can you blame her, really? When you've been around as long as they have, mysteries are all the more valuable. Eve lets her hand drop from Adam's cheek, and a moment later, she's standing before the threshold and peering curiously out into the hall. She remains within the room, though - the usual superstition about crossing a threshold uninvited seems particularly apt at the moment.

She has a hand raised, intending to extend it experimentally into the hallway, when there's a faint creak from the door. Eve steps back, a faint, perplexed smile on her face, as the heavy wooden door that had been propped back against the wall slowly swings shut. She fancies that there's something a little sheepish about the motion, as if the door might say, don't mind me. Still, it's with a gentle firmness that it finally clicks shut.

She looks to Adam, smile widening. "I believe we're meant to stay in here."