“The only way to discover how I got here is to find my way out,â€? she decided. Isabella began to weave her way around the towering stacks of paintings. As she neared the center of the cellar, the stench of damp, rotting earth grew stronger and stronger. She trudged on and on, barely able to breathe because of the horrible odor. And just when she thought she could go no further, she found herself at the foot of a long, winding staircase. She was just able to make out a faint light at the very top of the stairs.

Somehow, despite her fatigue, she had the strength to climb what seemed like an endless staircase. She felt like a robot. Her feet were moving of their own accord; they were no longer under her control.

Again, her head began to hurt, and she wondered if she would ever reach the top. No sooner had she thought this, and suddenly, she was outside, facing the anterior of a very old, mysterious, building. Once more, she had no idea where she was or how she had gotten there.