The grand door creaked open, making a skin-crawling sound. You and Scaramouche investigated the place, looking for clues of the owner's murder.

You reached the closet room, pulling out a fur coat and draping it over your shoulders.

"You shouldn't wear dead people's clothes."

Scaramouche crossed his arms, reminding you of the task at hand.

"It's not like they need it anymore!"

You retorted before giving a twirl. As you gazed into the mirror, his hand suddenly yanked the coat off you.