Page after page, I continued to read. I figured out quickly I had to run my finger over every word so the next page of text would show up. I wasn’t sure how many hours had passed by the time I reached the page where Myra’s name appeared, but I must have been getting sleepy because as soon as I saw it, I sat up straight and felt my eyes widen.
“You’re in here,” I said.
Myra had been writing on a small piece of parchment with a quill and ink, all of which had also been housed in her cloak. I decided I needed to ask after her tailor.
“What does it say?” she asked. It was as if she’d expected me to come across her name eventually.
“Why aren’t you surprised you’re in Hilda’s book?”
She shrugged. “Because I’m not.”
“You knew you were in here?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“It was something I saw long
