Being a "nice girl," Lucy didn’t open the journal. She spent three hours researching the address. She discovered that Wickham Lane had been a hidden alleyway behind the old clock tower, sealed off since the 1920s. Against every logical instinct she possessed, Lucy didn’t call the post office. She took the brass key and walked toward the clock tower.
For the first time in her life, Lucy didn't check her watch. She didn't think about her five-year plan. She looked at the blank journal in her hands and realized it wasn't a mistake—it was an invitation. "What do I do first?" she asked.
When Lucy walked out of the hidden alley, the sun was setting, turning the sky a chaotic, beautiful shade of orange. She didn't go home to prep her salad for Wednesday. Instead, she walked into the local boutique, bought the brightest red scarf they had, and booked a one-way flight to London on her phone while standing on the sidewalk.
She found the entrance behind a rusted iron gate obscured by ivy. The key turned with a click that felt like a heartbeat.