The inn was nice and quaint. It was made completely of wood, a little stone path leading up to the door through a white picket fence. Behind the inn was a pool and behind that was a large garden and orchid filled with sweet, naturally grown treats. It seemed like a wonderfully normal place.
“What’s your name miss?”
“Jackie Hills.” She answered.
“Ah yes! Miss Hills! I have your room key. Shall we go?”
