Part 1: The Sable and Sage

Lorna's lips curled into a satisfied smile as she swiped her favorite duster across the counter. Watching the specks of grime lift away and reveal bare, clean wood soothed her. She hadn't thought her habit of tidiness would serve her much until this job. In some ways it had been a burden most of her life, but it was proving useful now.

A small case of Acada wood lay on the counter. It was tilted slightly, not aligned with the counter’s edge.

"It's fine, Lorna. Let it go," she whispered.

With a shift of her feet, she turned toward the nearby display of jarred spices. Her lips tightened and she froze. Before she could stop herself, she turned and adjusted the case back into alignment. She tapped it once, then held her finger just above it.

"One is enough. It's in place."

She tapped on it again. How else could she be sure?

It was there, but something still gnawed at her. She clenched a fist and stared. Finally, she let out an exasperated sigh, then tapped the case a third time.

"There. All's well." A chipper smirk spread across her lips and she moved on to the spice display.

Her mother had always tried to teach her to let things go. Perhaps one day. There was always tomorrow, after all.

A small jingle and the stamp of boots pulled her from her thoughts. She didn’t react. Instead, she flicked her eyes to the mirror on the rear wall of the shop. She never liked to greet a stranger blind. Yet another habit—but an important one.

Keeping her face toward her work, she saw two men had entered. One carried a wooden box; the other wore a blank look and shifty eyes. They both shuffled toward the counter with heavy steps. Five steps for the big one, six and a half for the smaller. By the lean of their gait, both were right-handed. Good.

With dignified grace, Lorna glided behind the counter and set her duster neatly in its place. Then she turned to the men with a warm smile and respectful nod.