Senna
I found it right away. Not a big mess. Not things tossed around. Just… wrong.
My little room, usually a comfort, felt different. I’d just come back from the woods, my basket full of mugwort and comfrey. The air still had that morning chill smell, but my room felt… stale. I put my basket down. I looked around. Ten seconds. Maybe less.
My mortar and pestle, sitting on the shelf by the window. I always pushed it back, just so. Today, it was two inches too far to the left. Just a tiny bit. Someone had used it, or pretended to, then put it back. But not my back.
Then the chest, where I kept my spare clothes. The linens folded inside. I have a way. A particular order. Today, two were switched. A small thing. Very small. It meant someone had been there.
My work table. I had a small st
