Penelope set down her satchel of books on the only clean surface in the room, a table she had cleared months ago the day she had first ventured into this quaint and abandoned bookstore. She heard faint voices outside and instinctually moved out of the window’s view. The chances of someone looking into the building were slim, given that no one was out on the roads yet, but Penelope learned very early on that in a small town such as hers, people were practically desperate for drama, and catching her technically breaking into a building —however, abandoned it was— definitely qualified as drama. Especially since rummaging in a dirty old building for adventure books was a decidedly unproductive and unladylike use of her time. 

Pulling out the five books in her satchel, Penelope placed them back on their shelves, taking great care to place them in the exact spots where she had taken them from the week prior. It was a mark of pride for her to leave the bookstore exactly as she’d found it. Yes, it was abandoned, and probably a safety risk to stand in, but there was no need to disorganize the place. 

Placed at the edge of town and close to falling apart, she questioned whether anyone had even glanced at the sad building in the past decade. The bookstore's exterior was adorned with faded wooden boards, cracked windows, and a weathered panel hanging precariously from rusty chains. The sign, once vibrant and inviting, now barely held on, displaying the faded words "Inkwell’s Books" in elegant calligraphy. 

Despite Penelope’s very real worries that the building might one day come crashing down on her, she couldn’t help but be drawn to the place. The tiny bookstore never failed to illuminate a sense of excitement in her. The air inside was always thick with the scent of aged paper, ink, and wood. Sunlight struggled to filter through the dirty, broken windows, casting feeble beams that didn’t do justice to the dimly lit space. Shelves drooping with the weight of adventures and knowledge lined the walls, each filled with books covered in layers of dust and cobwebs. 

The wooden floorboards creaked underfoot as Penelope moved about the room, looking for books to replace the ones she had returned. Her gaze landed on a shelf covered with tattered fairy tales and faded legends. Walking over, she picked two books off the shelf at random and studied them. Their weight felt nice in her hands, a promise of the adventures the pages contained. Penelope placed them in her satchel, to be taken a closer look at home. Pivoting, she turned her attention to another shelf containing books on the topics of engineering and maths. She trailed her finger along the spines of all the books counting down from ten in her head. Upon reaching one, she landed on a rather big and red leather-bound book, packed snugly into the shelf. Penelope carefully pried the book off the shelf, unsticking it from its neighbors and placing it into her bag with her other two treasures. 

She cast another glance around to the shelves, looking for any outstanding books, but her attention snagged on the noise of chatter streaming in from the broken windows from the main road. When she’d first stepped into the store, the streets had been quiet, the townspeople still occupied with morning prayers, breakfasts, and getting ready for the day. Now, however, the day seemed to be in full swing, which meant her stepfather would be waking soon. 

“Oh drat!” Penelope hissed. A lace of panic swept through her at the thought of her stepfather finding out she’d snuck out. Grabbing the satchel, Penelope headed for the door. In her worry, she almost forgot to use the back exit of the bookstore, pivoting at the last second towards the second chamber which led to a more obscure exit. The front street was too crowded at this time, and Penelope didn’t want anyone to know she’d been here as technically she was trespassing, and she knew plenty of stick-in-the-muds around town who’d be happy to get her in trouble for it. 

The room she stepped into had no windows and the walls blocked any trace of light. The deep dark shadows sent shivers up her arm as they always did when she entered this chamber. Which is why Penelope usually didn’t. Penelope quickly made her way toward the door, trying not to think about the spiders that were surely crawling all around her, or the potential murderer that could be standing in the shadows. 

Stepping into the sunlight, Penelope ran an unconscious hand over her skirt, dusting off any dust that may have collected, and firmly shut the door behind her. The summer sun wasn’t especially strong in the early morning but Penelope placed a bonnet on her head to ward off its rays nonetheless. Deeming herself acceptable to walk home in public, Penelope walked via the relatively hidden alley behind Inkwell’s towards a larger network of interconnected backroads. Following the sound of chatter from the center of town, she kept a quick pace till her path merged with the wider main street. 

There were many people out and about, and Penelope realized with a jolt that it must be much later in the day than she'd initially presumed. She needed to speed up. If her dad noticed she’d snuck out in the morning, well, let's just say she wouldn’t be leaving her house for a few days. Even though Penelope was eighteen, her stepfather was extremely controlling. Penelope couldn’t even go out with friends, not that she had many, or go to the market without asking for permission. Adjusting the satchel of books on her shoulder, she mentally calculated the shortest route home. 

Arriving at her house, Penelope entered through the back door. She carefully closed the door behind her, taking care not to make noise. Upon confirming that the first floor was clear, Penelope breathed a sigh of relief. At least her stepfather hadn’t realized she’d gone. She headed towards the entrance and removed her shoes and bonnet, placing both items on the rack. As she turned towards the staircase, she heard her stepfather's footsteps coming down. Quickly, she stashed her book satchel in the shoe closet, simultaneously pivoting and closing the door. 

“Good morning Father.” Penelope greeted. 

Her stepfather grunted as he made his way to the dining table, the only indication he had heard her. As he vanished behind the drawing room wall Penelope turned to grab her satchel when her father hollered, “Penelope! Why isn’t the table set?” 

Penelope left the satchel to help her stepfather. “Father, I put out all the food this morning. Is there something else you want to eat? You didn’t tell me you had any special preferences so I just made the usual.” 

“Do not talk back to me young lady!” Her father’s tone got angrier by the second. “I’ve raised and provided for you! If it wasn’t for me you’d be dead by now! Ya got that?” 

“Yes Father, thank you Father” Penelope replied reflexively. She’d learned long ago that short answers suited best when her stepfather was in a mood. Speaking of which, why was he angry? Had she missed something? She peeked past him to the dining table, it was set the way she’d left it this morning. The boiled eggs she’d prepared were kept neatly in a thermal container, the glass of milk her stepfather always drank was filled and covered with a plate, and two slices of cut bread were also present, covered to ward off flies. There was a stick of butter near the bread and a platter of cheese as well. “Is there anything else you need, Father?” 

“Well, a plate and a fork would be nice!” Her father moved into his seat at the head of the table. “Or do you expect me to eat off the table? What am I, your servant? I ask for something to be done and expect you to do it right!” 

“Yes Father, sorry Father.” Penelope hurried to get the plates from the cabinet. 

“Save your ‘sorries’ for someone else, all I ask is that you do your job right. That’s not too much is it?” her stepfather asked as she placed his plate in front of him and handed him a fork. 

“No Father,” she said, placing food on his plate for him. 

“That’s enough,” her stepfather ordered, and Penelope knew enough to know it was a dismissal. 

“If you wish for anything else let me know,” Penelope offered, but her stepfather had gone back to ignoring her. Happily taking her leave, Penelope grabbed her satchel and made her way upstairs to her room. 

Sitting down at her desk she laid out the books she’d gathered from Inkwell’s. Penelope had a routine she followed every time she got new books. First, she cleaned the covers thoroughly and flipped through the pages, getting as much dust as possible out. Next, she’d read a snippet of every book to get a feel for what they were about. The best part was, she had no plans for the rest of the day. Giddy with excitement, she eagerly opened the first book she’d gathered.