Debtor’s prison? Her city sounded harsher than Bridges, if such a thing were possible.
The carriage came to a halt, and we alighted to the silver-gray cobbles. The temperature had dropped, and I wished I brought Tenni’s overcoat.
The shop was in the better part of the Diamond quadrant, and I could see why the prices might be too high for Mrs. Bryce.
I felt eyes on me, and a light-skinned man in brown turned away before I could see his face. A shiver of fear went down my back. “Let’s get out of here.”
A few streets over, we found a taxi-carriage which would take us to the slums “to see our aunt.” For an extra penny, he brought us to a rundown street a few blocks outside the Pot, just west of the main roadway. “It might be hard to find a taxi-carriage here,” he said.
Clever man. “Would
