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Tears sprang to her eyes, and a confusing tide of emotions moved through her: surprise, pain, then a sharp longing that caught her off guard. It slipped beneath her breastbone, pressing like a blade against her heart.
A black wax seal sat on the envelope's fold, embossed with a bead-eyed pigeon holding a scribing quill in its sharpened talons: the emblem of the Otherwhere Post.
"Goodnight, miss," the courier called, then slid into the night.
Not wanting to waste another second, Maeve severed the seal, cracking the pigeon at the neck. She scrambled to unfold the letter.
Dear Maeve,
I'm a childhood friend of your father's. He visited me in Leyland in those final days and told me a secret that changes everything. Meet me at the mouth of Edding's Close on the first of the month. Your father was innocent, and you deserve to hear the truth.
Excerpted from The Otherwhere Post by Emily J. Taylor. Copyright © 2025 by Emily J. Taylor. Excerpted by permission of G.P. Putnam's Sons. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Finishing second in the Olympics gets you silver. Finishing second in politics gets you oblivion.
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