Jade takes another look around, but her eye is drawn to the open drawer again. Something about it keeps pulling her focus back to it. After careful consideration, Jade decides to investigate further and floats over toward the table against the far wall.

She first notices the old pictures of her and the band on top of the table, collecting dust. A wave of nostalgia washes over her. They used to have so much fun together, and everyone looked so happy. There were pictures from nearly every one of their major concerts. They weren't a very renowned band or anything, but the club they played at was one of the most popular around. Still, they always put on a good show and even had a decent group of fans before Jade died and the band disbanded.

Thinking back on those days fills Jade’s mind with a burst of creativity, and she grabs her electric guitar. Instantly, she starts playing and humming to herself. In the process, she discovers a few more chords that work well in her unfinished song.

Jade is filled with enthusiasm and energy, playing the song from the beginning and adding the new notes, further building out the final solo. She’s just one step closer to finishing what she started. However, her euphoric moment is interrupted again by that drawer in the corner of her eye.

Jade moves on from the pictures and music and finally takes a look at the half-opened drawer, one she had never seen opened before. She slides her guitar onto her back, freeing up her hands, grabs the handle, and slowly pulls it open. Inside, she finds something that fills her head with questions.

She finds another picture, but this time it’s not of the band—or at least not the entire band. It’s a picture of just her, one she never knew had been taken. At first glance, it looks pretty ordinary: Jade is sitting on the windowsill of the large window in her apartment, nothing too special or unique. She sat there all the time when she was alive, and plenty of people had seen her sitting there, playing her guitar, from outside. However, this picture was somehow taken from inside her apartment.

This was very unusual because Jade never played guitar when she had company over. Those jam sessions were private, a way for her to relax—something very personal. That would mean the picture was taken by someone she didn’t know was in her apartment.

The thought sends chills through Jade. She’s scared at first, but then she remembers she’s already dead, so there isn’t much to fear. Still, the idea of someone being in her apartment without her knowing and taking pictures of her was undeniably creepy.

Even stranger is the fact that this picture was stored here, in a drawer she hadn’t even known she could open. She reasons that it must have been someone from the band. But who? The easy answer would be Brock, it was his garage after all. But it didn’t feel like something he would do, and Jade doubted he could pull off something that sneaky. Maybe another bandmate found the key to the drawer and took the picture? But who, and why?

Jade wonders how anyone could’ve gotten into her apartment, but before she can finish the thought, something shiny catches her eye deeper inside the drawer. She reaches for it and pulls out a set of spare keys for her apartment. This blows her mind even further—she didn’t recall giving these to any band member. Did someone steal them?

Jade has so many questions. It’s all so confusing. Maybe there’s a simple explanation for it all, or maybe there’s something she’s forgetting—after all, she did forget to finish her last song. Being forgetful was nothing new to her. Still, this whole situation was strange, and that picture... Something about it just didn’t sit right.

Jade reminds herself that this isn’t a priority right now. She has a song to finish. She decides to leave the garage for now, putting the keys and picture back in the drawer and shutting it. She floats toward the garage door, takes one last look at the room, and phases through the door.

Ironically, her next stop is her old apartment, which isn’t too far away. Jade flies high above the buildings, toward her old place. From a distance, she spots her apartment window, where she used to sit and play by herself. It’s nice seeing one of her favorite spots again, although a bit bittersweet after her discovery in the garage. But Jade doesn’t let that get to her.

She reaches the window and phases through it, entering her old apartment, bathed in moonlight. Right away, she recognizes the familiar smell of her old place—she had almost forgotten how nice it was. Jade looks around for a bit. The apartment is mostly cleaned out, except for a couple of old boxes and a few pieces of furniture, ready for someone new to make it their own.

She sits down on the windowsill, where she used to strum her guitar endlessly and sing soft songs into the night. Jade likes where she lives now, atop the church with a view of the entire city, but she can’t deny that this place still feels like home.

She picks up her guitar to have one last private night session on the windowsill. She starts by playing a few simple notes that work well together, and she softly sings along. But just as she’s getting into the groove, a few things catch her attention:

Her old record player is still there, and a record is left on it. She never left records on the player, and her collection seemed to have been moved out already.

One of the old boxes looks like it was opened recently, with clear handprints visible in the thin layer of dust on top.

A small frame on one of the walls is tilted. Jade remembers that frame—it used to hide a hole in the wall.

What should Jade do?