His bedroom wasn't there. The room was there, but all of his stuff wasn't in it.
The room looked more like an office. There was a desk in one corner, a pullout couch, a television.
This apparently wasn't his room anymore. But, which room was? He couldn't go around knocking on doors until he found one that had his things, could he?
Meanwhile, Zoe, already dressed, exited her bedroom. She headed downstairs to the kitchen. "Sharon," she said sternly, seeing the curled up lump on the couch in the living room. "How many times have I told you? No sleeping on the couch. Off now," she said.
She headed into the kitchen to fix herself some breakfast, glancing back at Sharon, who hadn't moved. She frowned. Everyone in this family seemed to have trouble following her instructions.
