The door was closed, which wasn't a good sign, it was hardly ever closed. I knocked on it gently, pressing my ear to the crack."Linds? You in here?"I ...ould hear muffled sounds but there was still no reply. What was going on?"Linds? Ready or not, I'm coming in."Things were very odd, something was not quite right somewhere. I opened the door, which gave me a view of her bed with her bag on it. She was definitely in here.She was sat at her table in front of the window a pile of children's. The torrent–a newly assembled device of torture for an already tortured land–was but another twist in the long, dark tunnel toward despair through which the village continued bound to fall. The Lord of the House, Charlotte, had not returned. Flooding had made the roads nearly impassable, and though they received word she was en route, the going was understandably slow. Business at the House had not slowed. If anything, despair only made the town’s inhabitants more likely to scrape together. More

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