The theatre was closed. It had been closed longer than Gin could remember. Since his parents and he’d moved here, obviously, but how long before that? He could never get straight answers. I didn’t know either. Nobody seemed to know. You have to understand, his crime was one of desperation. He had to know, and so he broke in.
Well, break in is probably the wrong way of putting it. There was no force involved. He studied the exterior day after day until he found, somewhat to his surprise, an opening; there was an unlatched window he’d never noticed before.
Tale Told 