Sinclair's eyes snap to where Jack's got his finger on the paper, reorienting himself to figure out whereabouts that line might exist.

The answer doesn't come right away, and he has to force himself to ignore the simmering anticipation that makes him want to say for sure, yes, that has to be it.

He needs to eliminate all the other possibilities first.

"Could be a closet? Something too small to warrant marks on a blueprint," he suggests. It's damn near impossible, but he doesn't want to call it unless he's absolutely positive.

"I don't remember seeing any other doors, did you?"