Previous: Death Before Dawn
Hazel followed the wooded path back to the cottage she shared with her sister. The sun was well up by the time she returned, the warmth pulling the heady scent of honeysuckle into the air. She eyed the herb patch as she passed through the garden, noting a number of red mites on the hyssop and lemon balm, and she made a mental note to return later with a bowl of soapy water to wash the pests away.
She rounded a corner and found a young man standing near the front door, his back against the wall as Holly, with a broom in hand, stood entirely too close to him than was proper or polite.
“What’s going on?” Hazel said.
Hazel peered at the twilit sky as she wandered along the wooded path. She clutched her lantern, even though the way lightened with the approaching dawn. She quickened her step. It would be a brief visit this time. She knew she’d been too liberal with the valerian tea. She wasn’t one to oversleep, but restfulness had eluded her lately. Too much on her mind.
The skirts of her dress rustled against the brush and bushes, a rasping whisper as if the woods themselves hushed her ungainly approach.
“I won’t be long,” she said. No one was there, but one never knew when out in the woods. Continue reading