“Do you know why they’re here?” Garret asked in a level voice. “The soldiers I mean?”

“They said they were looking for someone,” Cain answered. “Dristlemore was his name.”

“Sounds important,” Garret said. He sat staring at the stairs a moment before turning to grab his journal. “I think I’m gonna go home and do some writing.”

Cain smiled. “Alright,” he said, knowing very well Garret could not write any coherent words longer than “dog” or “cow.”

Garret stood up. “I’ll talk to you later, Cain!”

“Bye, Garret.”

Garret turned and began walking towards the door, his journal tucked tightly under his arm. Since he was about seven, Garret had been carrying around the same journal with him day in and day out. Seeing him without his raggedy journal was like seeing a chicken without wings. It was amazing that the journal was still in one piece after all these years. Garret talked about writing a great story someday, though he couldn’t write more than his name and simple words. Regardless, the journal kept him busy and he loved it.

Cain stretched his arms and legs before deciding that he’d best get on with the day as well. There were some chores his mother had asked him to do, and he had been putting them off for long enough. He stood up and said goodbye to Amy who eagerly came to clean the table, happy to finally have something to do. He made his way towards the door when he heard jingling keys coming down the stairs.

He turned to see Mr. Mendenhall descending the stairs slowly, his expression vacant. He absentmindedly fiddled with the keys on his key ring while licking his lips, his eyes staring down to the dark wooden floor below. Curious, Cain stopped and turned towards him. “Mr. Mendenhall?” he asked. “Are you alright?”

As if coming out of a dream, Lars looked up, his eyes going wide. “Oh! Yes. Why, yes of course, my boy.” He faked a smile. “Very good, thank you.”

Cain wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure? You don’t look yourself.”

“Oh, no, no,” Lars protested, “I’m fine. I just have some things on my mind, that’s all.”

Cain was silent a moment, still not satisfied with his answer. If Mr. Mendenhall didn’t want to talk about it though, there was nothing he could do. “Alright then.”

“Very good,” Mr. Mendenhall said before turning quickly to walk towards the kitchen.

Cain watched him go, noticing Amy Noram’s concerned expression as she finished cleaning his table. He said nothing to her, but couldn’t help but think what was wrong. He turned towards the door when something at the top of the stairs caught his eye. He looked up the stairs quickly to see the scarred man staring down at him, a dark expression on his face. Cain stared back, wondering if the man had done or said anything to Mr. Mendenhall. The man turned and disappeared from sight.

Cain listened to his boots cross the hallway before he heard a door open and shut. He looked back to where Amy was, but she was gone, probably to see if she could get any answers out of Mr. Mendenhall. He thought about Laura, not wanting to leave her here if those men were up to something. However, there was little he could do if Mr. Mendenhall said everything was fine. He turned towards the door, opening it before stepping out into the brisk afternoon air. He walked down the front steps of the inn and then along the dirt street towards home with suspicious thoughts clear in his mind.