Sans note
The Map the Moon Remembered
In the quiet hill town of Brackenford, Rowan Mils loved two things more than anything: stories and maps. He slept with a notebook tucked under his pillow, scribbling routes he imagined and places he wanted to see. One evening, after the baker had closed up and the last lanterns along the street blinked out, Rowan sat at the window with his candle and tried to copy the star patterns from the sky. That was when he noticed the old oak outside his bedroom—its branches bent like a thoughtful arm—shivering as if something had brushed through the leaves.