Gorged on hospitality and tuckered out from (somewhat ironically) powering the imaginary flight of children on your day off from powering mechanical flight for yourself, you and Bella are afforded a room upstairs. It's a genuine bedroom, but it has been cannibalized by the store below and made into storage for timbre lengths for window frames, small wooden crates theoretically for the storage of surplus key blanks and assorted widgets. Many of them seem to be empty and filled only with the ambition to get ahead of inventory shortages, and so the operation of driving them to one side and freeing up the double bed beneath to change the sheets for you and Bella to crash in is not so time consuming in the end.

The family clears out in the evening, leaving the shop/home with its live-in occupants and guests to bed down. Peppe sleeps in the same room he has for almost nine decades, with his maid Sylvia nearby to aid him as required. You and Bella sleep in the 'spare' room upstairs. Biagio shares his room with Maso in a cot put out for him, after a brief argument about who should use the bed, and who should sleep in the less comfortable cot. And below, in the back room immediately behind the shop itself, Franchino's two grandsons, Elmuccio and Buonamico, share their living space with workbenches and supply.

But your eyes snap open in the early hours of the morning, and adjust rapidly adjust to the gloom. You don't know why initially. It's perfectly quiet - but you plunge into your foggy, dream-blurred short term memory and find the sense of the sound that intruded and triggered your sensitive instincts - the click of a lock's tumblers falling into place, downstairs. Even your hearing couldn't hear a perfectly well oiled lock from that far away - but, you suppose, a family of locksmiths might know not to over-oil their locks on account of preferring to hear them manipulated, during the night. And of the three big locks on the front door of the shop, or those on all the windows whose bars are slid into place at night, who is to say one isn't a little loud?

Your body wants sleep, but your instincts give you no repreive - someone is breaking in, downstairs. Your armor lies piled over a chair to one side of the bed, with your weapons in arms reach. Donning that could take a precious minute... But how likely are burglars to be ready to fight? And have Elmuccio and Buonamico, much closer to the sound downstairs, also heard the noise and are waking to prepare themselves right now?