As Samantha ran, she looked up at the names of the shops through a red haze of pain. She knew every store name before reading it off the sign. She finally collapsed onto a chair outside a café, shaking her head at the realization she must have been here before.
With her head still pounding, she tried to think of when she might have been here and whom she might have been with. Nothing emerged from the subconscious soup in her brain to provide her with an answer. There has to be some way to find out, she thought.
"Excuse me, can I get you something?" Samantha looked up to see a fat old woman standing by the table.
"No, I was resting for a moment," Samantha said.
"These tables are for customers only, young lady. Move along before I call the police," the old woman said.
Samantha got up from the table, the pain in her head easing somewhat. She patted her pockets, feeling the jewelry she'd brought from Pryde's cellar. She needed to find a place to sell the jewelry for some local currency. Where could she go? She should have asked Mr. Pryde before he left, but she didn't want to make him more suspicious than he probably already was about why Samantha and her "cousins" were here.
She continued along the sidewalk, which sloped down towards the sea. Near the bottom she came to a stop in front of a clapboard shack with everything from an anchor taller than the Primrose to a bathtub strewn about the front yard. The words, 'New Beginnings Antiques' were painted on the front window. Something told her this was the place to sell her jewelry.
She opened the door, a bell ringing overhead. Inside she found the store as disorganized as the front yard. Old clothes, appliances, books, and knickknacks were spread about the shelves with no organization. In a glass case at the back of the store she found rows of broaches, necklaces, rings, and even war medals. The sight of so much jewelry gave her the sick feeling they wouldn't want any of hers.
"Can I help you?" a woman called out. Samantha turned around to find a middle-aged woman in a ratty brown sweater and a pair of reading glasses standing behind her.
"Yes, I think so. You buy old jewelry, right?"
"That depends on the quality."
Samantha reached into the pocket of her jeans to take out the bag of jewelry from Pryde's cellar. She emptied it out onto the counter. "Is any of this high quality?"
The woman bent forward, squinting behind her reading glasses to study the jewelry Samantha had poured out. As the woman examined an emerald broach, Samantha put a hand to her forehead. She couldn't shake the feeling she had been here before. But she couldn't simply ask the woman if she had been here previously without sounding like a lunatic.