No shit, Sherlock. Jane took a slow, gathering breath. "... Yes. That is the issue at hand here." She clicked her tongue before pocketing the key, eyes sizing up the hulking home. "... We could always bust a window, but I'm not in the mood to explain to a police officer why I felt the need to break into my own home. Nor am I in the mood to be questioned any further." She glanced around and noted a nearby tree that rested close to the window of her old room. Unbeknownst to her mother and father, that window's latch had been broken for years, the tree serving as a frequent ladder during her rebellious years. She took Jake's hand again and they headed for the oak in question, the tree gladly accommodating their rise to the top. She slid her window open and nodded for Jake to scurry inside.