Best Hotel

The named hotel occupies an anonymous position among Windsor’s mid-tier establishments, its unassuming facade masking a transient luxury barely holding against the building’s creeping decay. The lobby hums with the low chatter of policemen shifting their weight between duty shifts, their polished boots clicking against terrazzo that has lost its sheen to decades of foot traffic. A single gilt-framed mirror reflects the flicker of fluorescent lights above, casting a sickly glow over the check-in desk where worn leather chairs sag under the weight of tired uniforms. Behind the desk, a young clerk’s fingers drum an unsteady rhythm on the Formica counter, his eyes darting toward the entrance where Karl and De Flores enter with military precision, their presence immediately tightening the air.