//CLARA//
The carriage crawled through the city streets like a dying animal.
I had stood on the curb for twenty minutes after leaving the archive, waving down every passing conveyance like a castaway signaling a ship. Most ignored me. One driver looked at me and asked if I was lost. Another told me to try the omnibus. The one who finally stopped charged me triple and spent the entire ride glancing at me in the mirror like I might rob him.
I did not care. I just needed to get home.
By the time we reached the mansion, the sky had darkened with the promise of a storm. I slipped through the servants' entrance. The hallways were tomb-quiet, the kind of atmosphere that usually preceded a jump-scare.
I stayed low, clutching my oversized widow's hat to my chest like a shield, my sunglasses still perched precariously on the bridge of my nose. I looked like a woman who had just crawled out of a grave and was looking for the nearest bar.
