The Hunted Clock

e the ticking of an unseen clock, each

hing against the cool metal of the watch on the counter. "W

his voice even more. "Henry Grey was never just a clock maker. He was... unique. The kind of cra

ocess the words. "That doesn't explain why someone wo

door again. His fear was palpable,

"It's a map. A guide to something people h

d, her voice barel

rembling. "Or a secret. I don't know which

of the counter, her mind racing. Her father, a man who had always see

they?"

a thin line. "You don't want to know, Miss

ising. "Someone broke into his workshop. They kil

rust no one. Not the authorities, not anyone who claims to be helping you. These p

father left this for me. Whatever he was i

ent, then nodded. "If that's true, then

e's t

id. "And remember, time is your al

d. A young man stepped in, his eyes scanning the room. The shopkeeper str

id quietly to Emil

y, her mind spinning. The watch felt heavier in her pocket n

old oak tree. Pulling out the watch, she studied it again. The engravings were even more

ng the compartment, she found the tiny parchment again, her fath

ot

her eyes scanning the notes and diagrams. Then she found it-a sketch of the watch,

the oldest aristocratic families in England, known for their wealth and

deeper into her father's past. She visited his old clients, searc

covered lef

n Britain. His clocks weren't just timepieces; they were masterpieces, often hiding compartments or mech

father's most loyal patrons, commissioning several pieces over the years. But their

to hold immense value, were tied to the feud. Some said Henry had stole

t artifact was somehow connec

on the outskirts of London. The manor loomed like a fortress, its s

only determination and a growing sense of urgency. Whatever her father

faint light in one of the windows. She moved c

w made her

as there, speaking with another figure in a dark coat. They were e

s. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, but the

lies and betrayal, and the deeper she went, th