You catch a glimpse of the house your friend's inherited past the gate.
Despite its clear age and weathering, it's clear this place was once a palace to grandeur, with spires on the left side of the house showing windows that look out on a sprawling, dead yard. The steps up to the front porch are cracked, but they were beautiful in another time, made of a white-gray marble tile. Through the windows, you can see curtains, dusty and torn from the years of rot sunk into their fabric. It's a bit intimidating how well the building's held up over the years, and you take a deep breath at the sight of it.
To the left, a face appears around the window of your car, startling you out of your stare. You jump and blink at the person, who you recognize to be Vince. He gestures for you to get out of your car.