Mira asked, quietly, "Who are you?"
Years later, an old woman sat on the same bench where Mira had first dug up a piece of the town. She was the last of the original senders—the one who had wrapped the brass key and written the coordinate. She smiled when Mira approached and handed her a new card. On it, the same steady handwriting read: "The map was only the beginning. Keep the town where stories are safe." fc2ppv4436953part08rar
"We are what was lost," the voice answered. "We are the stories left when people moved on." Mira asked, quietly, "Who are you
"Why me?" Mira asked.