“Because it was valuable? Because skeletons are so useful, sure. Maybe the Goblins did it. Can’t you eat bones? Or—someone else?”

“Question. How did Mr. Skeleton upstairs die?”

“Am I afraid of dead people? Well yeah. But they can’t hurt me. Zombies can, but normal dead people can’t. It’s just a skeleton. I can take a look for signs of—of death, and then I’ll go sleep. Good plan. Let’s do it.”

“It’s gone.”

“Okay. Okay. What’s the problem? It was just a skeleton. Just a spooky, dead thing. And even if it did move—somehow, where would it go?”

“No, no. That’s impossible. It’s not here. It’s somewhere else. Besides, where could it hide? I checked all the rooms upstairs. So where could it be?”