The key trembled in Frisk's hand. Chara had known exactly where to look for it—at the bottom of Mom's sock drawer. It should've been obvious. Mom didn't wear socks. Why would she have a drawer full of them unless she was trying to hide secrets?
The key fit the lock, but took a little bit of jingling to open. The knob felt like it hadn't been turned in a long time.
"Do you have any idea what's in there?" Frisk whispered.
"Just open the door and you'll find out."
Chara was right. They didn't have all day.
Frisk pushed open the door.
It was dark inside. Frisk felt their way along the walls until they found a lamp. The bulb worked, but didn't illuminate much.
The room was nearly identical to Mom's. There was a bed, which looked one size larger than hers. Two dressers. A dusty desk.
"She hasn't touched it at all…" Chara was quiet.
"Touched what?" Frisk whispered. It felt wrong to talk in their normal voice here. Almost like it was some kind of graveyard.
It wasn't. Dad wasn't dead.
Those might've been Chara's feelings seeping through again.
"Anything. It doesn't look like his stuff has been touched since we moved."
Frisk blinked. We?
They weren't stupid. They knew something was up with Chara, something tied to Mom and Dad. They just didn't know what.
Maybe something in this room could answer that.
Frisk scoured the desk drawers. They were all empty, except for some scrolls in a language only Chara could read, but they claimed the words "weren't important." The dressers weren't much help either. The robes inside were ancient and smelled musty. If Dad had moved out like Chara implied, he'd taken everything he cared about with him.
This room was just another dead end.
"Check one more place," Chara suggested. "There's a secret drawer in the back of the wardrobe. He used to hide chocolate there sometimes before…"
Frisk waited, but Chara didn't continue.
Despite the unsettling silence, they climbed into the wardrobe and pushed through the robes, feeling around until…
Pop! A little compartment opened. It was too dark to see in the wardrobe, but Frisk stuck their hand in and scooped out a book. It felt heavy. Maybe a journal?
They were eager to flip through it, but Chara stopped them.
"We can look at it later. Now, let's get out of here before—"
Chara didn't need to finish.
Mom was already standing in the doorway, her expression stern as stone.
Their throat was too dry to apologize or explain, or even to beg for mercy. The reality of their actions crashed down like an avalanche. They'd stolen Mom's key. Broken into Dad's room. They'd gotten too comfortable, and now Mom was going to—
She was going to—
"My child. You are not meant to be here."
They gulped and nodded. Their eyes stung. Everything stung.
"What is it you have found?" She held out a paw, but it didn't feel like an invitation. Her voice was still so cold.
Mom who read them snail facts and washed their hair was gone.
This… This was Mom who wouldn't want them, because they—they weren't good… they had never been good enough…
They stumbled forward and placed the book in her palm. It had a photo on the front, but she clutched the book to her dress before they could tell what it was.
"I am sorry, Frisk, but there will be no cider with dinner. And I will have you promise not to enter this room again. Does that sound like a fitting punishment to you?"
They stared up at her with wide eyes. "No—no cider?"
Mom bit her lip. "I suppose… that does sound a little much, when I never explicitly told you not to come in here…"
That wasn't what Frisk had meant. Just… Mom was letting them off that easily? They'd thought she would throw them back into the Ruins, or…
"My child?" Mom knelt down to their level. "You… did not see anything disturbing in here, did you?"
They shook their head and threw themselves at her in a hug.
"No cider is perfect," they said into the fur at her neck. "And I'll never come back in here again. I promise."
Mom chuckled. "You always are an interesting child. Come now, let us leave this wretched place."
She effortlessly lifted Frisk with one arm, then set the book on the desk for a moment in order to turn off the lamp.
In that moment before the room went dim, though, Frisk saw one thing that finally pieced the puzzle together.
Embossed in gold on the book were the words Dreemurr Family Memories.