You look in the closet

You stick your head, and hands, into our closet. You see like... four clothing hampers for some reason and way too many flannel shirts. Continuing to put your grubby little paws all over our things you push the hangers aside. 

You spot a guitar tucked into the corner of closet, clearly unplayed-- for a moment you wonder whether Vox is tiny enough to be hiding inside the guitar, but quickly realize how silly that sounds; she prefers woodwinds.