CHAPTER 7: The Stag No One Used Anymore

Daniel had seen the stag only once before.
It was carved into the first wooden sign that still hung in the staff corridor, half hidden behind delivery schedules and safety notices. North Pier Market had been founded as Whitmore Kitchens, a place where fishermen, bakers, and street cooks rented stalls for fair prices before the waterfront became fashionable.
The stag had belonged to Silas Whitmore's original office key.
Daniel picked it up with a towel, suddenly afraid to touch it with bare fingers. The metal was warm from the young man's hand. On the side, almost erased, were two initials: J.W.
Vanessa returned before he could hide it.
Her eyes dropped to the counter. All the color left her face.
'Where did you get that?' she asked.
Daniel looked at her expression and understood that the key mattered more than the stranger's hunger ever had.