With countless rooms, the Rothslor manor could be declared a castle. I had lost track of which floor we were on and how many rooms we had gone through. The fear of throat-slitting and devil sacrifice persisted with each new area we entered. “This is the last room,” said Jane Astor, removing a big bronze lock from the door. "Come inside and have a look. We’re not hiding anything here except old furniture." “We don’t need to check anything. Our mother was entirely wrong about you. ...