Previous: Milled Messages, Part Two

They made it back to Sarnum the afternoon of the following day. They had all slept fitfully in the carriage, and everyone was exhausted. They didn’t return to the Backwards Buck, though. Hawthorn directed them to a different inn—one that, he claimed, knew how to properly feed its guests.

The inn didn’t look like much from the outside—a narrow grey stone building wedged between two others like a spindly child trapped on a sofa between her two great aunts. A brass placard near the walnut door displayed the inn’s name of “Sensi’s Contemplation.”