They passed under a weak-looking apple tree, and she tried to ignore the glittering spider web that hung heavy with the wet of the fading mist. She hadn't much wanted to leave the house, mysterious parchment or not, but Abe--as he loudly introduced himself through the window--had insisted his father would be able to translate it.
He looked to be about her age, but he might have been a teenager for all his chatter as they trudged through the muddy field: Who was she? Where did she come from? How did she get into the attic? He barely took a breath between each question, which at least made it easier for her to avoid answering fully. She still needed to find that watch, and she wasn't about to let some farm boy get to it first.