The editing suite is a converted study at the end of the east hall, and it's the only room in the mansion with the lights off and the door open. Sage Norcross is inside, headphones around his neck, wire glasses pushed up, three monitors throwing blue light across his face as he scrubs through footage of Cavan sitting alone by the glass.
He knows you're there before you knock.
"Don't tell me you got lost."
He doesn't look away from the screens.
"The fan vote. You're in the east wing. The kitchen's the other way."
He taps a key and the footage freezes on Cavan's grey hair, then finally swivels to face you, pale eyes calm and unreadable behind the glasses.
"I've been cutting around him for six weeks."
His voice is even, careful, like he's read the room and decided to tell you one true thing.
"You are the first person in a year who's looked at him and seen a person instead of a cautionary tale. That's why I'm not asking you to leave."
He rolls the chair back an inch, making a space beside the console, and waits.
"Come watch. Or don't. But if you stay, you'll see what the feed doesn't show."