In their minds, the Twins probably felt fine. They’d offered her breakfast, perhaps as a kind of repayment for sex. But the last straw was them walking away as soon as the train stopped. Mari took a deep breath. Maybe good-byes were overrated, but did they have to flirt with another woman so soon? And directly in front of her? She huffed out, breathed in, working on breath control as a panic attack threatened. She had no idea where the Wanderer Inn was located. All she wanted to do was hide, hide and cry while her out-of-control adrenaline pumped through her blood. Her heart beat at a million miles an hour, and the hostile nature of the street she stood upon only made things worse. Focus. She had to focus. Digging into her pocket, she pulled out the sheaf of scrap paper her father had kept beside his bed. Most of the white space was covered in his scratchy handwriting. She’d meant to study it on the train, see if it contained any clues she could spin into practical advice.
