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Chapter 6: Put ’Em On - R
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Chapter 8: Washroom Spill - R
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... olls. Did you want any milk?" I asked, rummaging behind the counter to assemble the order, "That’ll be fourteen copperbell... Thank you, Mr. Porchance, have a nice day!"
The doorbell chimed as the last of our morning rush customers carried on his way, leaving me alone. Daddy’s snoring hummed through the rafters upstairs.
Making use of the moment’s reprieve, I stepped into the kitchen and began to restock, carrying trays out to the front of the house.
Another tug hit my ch ...
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