Misa couldn’t face the captain the next morning. They had their breakfast in silence, packed some lunch, and headed out. The captain was equally quiet, and Misa’s stomach dropped when she thought of what she almost did the night before. Even the cat seemed to sense the discomfort, choosing to sleep next to the driver than staying inside the carriage with Misa.
She couldn’t enjoy the breeze or the green foliage of passing trees. The memory nagged at her relentlessly, forcing her to convince herself with so many excuses that she wondered why she was even concerned. Nothing had happened, and nothing was ever going to happen.
“Miss Carpenter.”
Misa jumped. She kept her eyes outside the window, too scared of what she would see if she faced him. “Yes?”
“I think we should
