Vol. 1, Chapter 3 - Marrakesh

The moment Madeline stepped through the hedge, the air changed. She breathed in the fresh dry breeze, laced with the scent of exotic spices.

She found herself in a narrow alleyway, her boots crunched against ochre stone as she walked past woven baskets overflowing with saffron, carmine, and gold. Had she traveled? Dreamed? The sketchbook from the garden was still in her hand.

Her eye caught a ribbon—deep plum- draped softly along the bustling alley. It looped through the handle of a copper kettle, braided through the tassel of a merchant’s robe. The ribbon led her to a shaded alcove where a single teacup waited on a carved table, still warm. Beside it: another lavender envelope, the message inside read: Keep going, Madeline.