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And by the time my captor realized what I had done, it was too late.

He’d known I was this thing, an archivist, but not what my gift was.

He’d broken both my hands to stop me from penning anything further on our journey north.

Me, not knowing what I was, by winter’s chill, I’d been made what they called a carcer, the prisoner of Meadowquest.

And it was there that I learned that my writing had come true. The proclamations had been made. But I was still captive.

Chapter Six

Lex

After my first week of work, the weekend came, and I found myself in need of groceries again.

Off I went that Saturday afternoon, sleazing around town as I found a nice little coffee spot to sit and enjoy something blended, sweet, and chocolaty. I hummed with delight as I browsed my phone and watched the surrounding people, not one familiar face from the library. No one seemed to want to pay me any attention, the kind of purposeful ignorance that only came with small towns and conservative values.

Suited me fine enough.

I flipped open my dating app and glanced over the locals—a whole lot of faceless chest photos in this place… All of them looking for discreet hookups.

I didn’t do married men or hookups. I needed to really be in the mood to like a guy enough to prep and get on with it.

Pass, pass, pass. I flicked through the photos. Some of the chests I could admire, but that was the end of it.

Instead, I popped my earbuds in and listened to a dirty book. If I wasn’t getting laid, living vicariously through some random omegaverse novel where the omega got his brains railed in by his true mate in a heated frenzy, seemed perfect.

From the coffee shop, I went to the post office to have my home mail forwarded. Doing it online cost money and could take a little longer. Maybe one of the downsides of being ignored by the vast populus was the employee at the post office doing her best to pretend I wasn’t there until I rang the bell a good five times.

Orthopedic gloves locked her wrist in place as she took my little form and tickety-typed her way across the keyboard before asking for ID. “New to town?”

“Yep!” I smiled, and she only hummed, round face twisting as she continued clicking and typing.

“Why here?” She didn’t look at me when she asked, and I chuckled, giving her my best smile.

“I got a job offer that brought me in.”

She hummed again, “The car factory? They go through employees like I go through Jolly Ranchers.”

I shook my head. “Got a job at the library.”

“The high school or middle school?”

“Neither. Meadowquest.” I leaned against the counter, faltering when her face wrinkled into something ugly.

“Meadowquest burned down before I was born. And it was a tuberculosis ward before that.” She stared me down.

“Maybe it’s another Meadowquest? I was there yesterday, brick façade, steepled roof, gravel lot over on Larkhurst Street?” I waited a few moments as she turned her attention away from me with a frown and went back to entering information.

“Never heard of it,” she finally spoke before giving me a receipt of some sort and waving me on. “Have a nice day.”

The way she said nice wasn’t very nice at all, so I left, holding my receipt. I went in for an address change and left far more confused than I was the day before.

This town sucks.

From the post office, I made my way by the power company to put the bill in my name. Water and trash were part of the home, so I made quick work of that; the employees were rather glib with me there, as well.

And from there, I gave up trying to ask people about Meadowquest and went to the grocery store to stock up for the week.