The interior of the cedar cabin was a masterclass in deception. From the outside, it looked like the home of a hermit who whittled spoons for a living. Inside, it was a sanctuary of warmth, wealth, and the smell of slow-roasted meat that made Louise’s mouth water instantly.
A fire crackled in a stone hearth large enough to roast a boar. The furniture was overstuffed leather, worn soft by years of use. And standing in the center of the room, holding a ladle like a scepter, was a tiny, white-haired woman who barely reached Louise’s shoulder.
"She’s here!" the woman announced, her voice surprisingly booming. "The girl who finally made Andy buy a suit that fits!"
This was Grandma Rose. The matriarch. The woman whose ring was currently burning a hole in Andy’s pocket. Behind her stood a tall
