Eki escaped from the tidy hallway and all the confusion followed her. The streetlights cast a soft yellow light on the wet pavement, mirroring how tangled she felt inside. She needed escape, a haven to process the whirlwind of revelations and accusations.
Her feet bring her to the familiar place of Iya Wura's herb shop. The soft sound of wind chimes tells everyone she has arrived even before she opens the old wooden door.
Iya Wura, with sweet incense smoke around her, sat at a messy counter organizing colourful herbs. Her wise eyes full of age wrinkles saw Eki; worry appeared on her old face.
"Ah, child," she croaked, her voice a gentle rasp. "Come, sit. You look troubled."
Eki sat on an old stool, the nice scent of chamomile and lavender making her feel at peace. She began speaking fa
