Derla excused herself as we reached the room's door. The moment I stepped inside, my jaw literally dropped. The bedroom was massive, bigger than the entire apartment Casey and I had lived in. The walls were painted in warm, creamy ivory tones, with a subtle venetian-plaster finish that looked almost like textured art. It had depth, character, something you’d never find in an ordinary room.

The ceiling was high—so high my neck strained just from looking up. That was when I noticed the ...