A bet, that fails

He doesn't argue but nods.

“Come on then,” he grabs my hand and pulls me into the house. “Okay, so downstairs, as you know, office, kitchen, dining room, living room, and this one is the laundry room. That one is just a small room kind of cupboard; rarely gets used.” Nodding, we begin to walk upstairs.

“So, to the right, that room is a guest room; the opposite room is obviously my room; next to my room, as you know, is the playroom. The next door has a code.” Typing it in, the door opens.

“Safe room. I’ve never had to use it, but it is here if needed.” He shrugs, almost like it is an everyday thing to have a safe room. The room has monitors, a bed, a sink, a small cooker, everything. Carrying on, we walk to two more doors. “Both of these are guest rooms. Those two are empty and never get used.” He points to two of the doors, turning to walk away.

“That is everything,” he smiles, looking at me, waiting for me to follow him. Laughing at him, I shake my head.

“You missed a door.” I point