Chapter 13
Esme sat on her bed, rummaging through a sack of her mother’s clothes that Miranda had found for her. With Lillian away on an overnight visit to her father, and Miranda at work, the house was quieter than usual. The only sounds at No. 8 were those floating in from outside: fragments of conversations from passing boats, the slap of water against the sides of the canal, the faint peal of a distant bell.
She tipped the sack’s contents on to the bed. Ariane’s clothes tumbled out: jeans, dresses, skirts, and jumpers, along with the faintest whiff of lavender. She picked up a soft wool sweater and hugged it to herself.
As she lifted one of the skirts, a crumpled piece of paper fluttered out of its pocket. A receipt: yellow and faded with age.
La Peregrina
14 Sofia Square
A. Silv
