At least something good happened that day. The coffee Herderg had made was strong enough that it counted as a deadrouser's concoction. With the invigorating dark liquid she served homemade apple pies, tiny enough to eat with one hand, but large and creamy enough to be filling.
They almost kept Serenica's thoughts from turning towards Helen's fate.
With a full stomach and a heavy heart she left.
She had nowhere to go. She had a feeling she'd been in that situation for way too long, but now she began to have ideas about what to do with it.
Her pistol was in her bag.
She'd heard of a certain two-faced dressmaker who was likely to have some money.
Under normal circumstances robbery would have been unthinkable. Now, though, it began to have some resemblance to a solid plan.
