shawl, the soft linen damp with a thin sheen of dew. A lace of flour danced in the air, catching the morning light like

r dark curls pinned high with two mismatched hai

nkindly, but loud enough for the boy s

hem of her dress and slipping behind the counter. She tied her apron with a practiced motion, then leaned over t

na said as she returned to kneading. "Ma

was a mean bird. The kind that

ver liked it, t

ind and a man wrapped in a sea-weathered coat. He walked like he didn't belong to the street outside, nor the one before that

sn't the wandering prophe

mors," the man said with a g

h for rumors to stick to him like barnacles. Some said he was a cartographer fallen from favor; others whispered about smuggling, though he never

break the path as bad as they thought," Elias said, ac

who like to walk in

plied. "Anyway, Miss Runnel says her cat's gon

"That woman's cats don't

the warmth didn't ful

eeping-was now nudging at the door with his broom, pretending to be heroic. "Maybe the

magistrate's lot," Lena murmu

long curls against the brick like hair left to dry. Denbridge was a town of t

eturned too early by readers who had either finished too fast or never started. In the distance, be

supposed to?" Thom asked suddenly, then r

ebrow. "Is this a

"Maybe. She said my p

r that rhymed 'love' with 'dove,'" Mi

s hear

with a man for writing like a weathered hymn. Try laug

poem with no words, th

oor. He paused before opening it. "Bread'

s boots crunchin

violet into pale blue, and the harbor wind was shifting again, sending gulls inland and shaking the trees. Ther

o turn and jokes to endure, and