Immediately, Cressida and I scurried around, scanning for anyone that might have looked suspicious.
There was no one for us to find. No way to judge who it could have been. Everyone was moving with purposeful strides, every face belonging to someone with somewhere to be.
It could have been the lady in the vibrant yellow dress, lifting a portion of her skirt as she smiled coolly at nothing in particular. It could have been the man hurling commands at some dogs whose teeth looked worse for wear, and who knew what those things had gone and bitten. It could have been the hooligan-looking young man with a hat and rumpled shirt who was leaning against a wall like the world owed him something.
It could have been anyone. And realizing that meant I couldn't approach a single soul without having a clear suspicion, and I wasn't even suspecting anyone.
We traced our way back to where the carriage had dropped us, but found no one there. The man was gone.
