This is Bryony Fenn. Marigold is my sister.

The Chronicle is doing what it can, and we are grateful. But we are her family, and there is a limit to how long you can sit still and let other people do the looking. Marigold kept a working notebook. We found this one at her lodgings, on her desk, where she left it before she went out to the lodge the last time. We do not know what most of it means and are hoping one of you might. So we are printing it, in her own words, exactly as she left it. If a name or an hour or a small strange detail here lands on someone you know, please send word to the Whispering Groves desk.

What follows is transcribed from Marigold Fenn’s working notebook. The final entry is where the writing stops.

The thing that will not sit right. Every single person describes something different coming out of that door. One man more awake than he has felt in years, a woman weeping and glad of it. If it were a show they would all have seen the show. They each saw the one thing they were missing. How do you build a room that knows what a stranger is missing?

On Madame Solace. Warmest evasion I have ever interviewed. A closed gate ready for every possible question, which is not warmth, that is preparation. I would like to know what she did before she was Madame Solace, and I cannot find a soul who knew her before this spring.

Follow the money. Who paid for the lodge? The restoration was fast and it was not cheap. And the Groves Council, which cannot clear a fallen tree in six years, found a representative to hold the ribbon on opening day. Somebody wanted that door open badly. Note to self: it is almost never magic.

Setting up the follow-up. Solace has agreed to let me go through the door myself. Of course she has. She would rather I write about the inside than keep asking who paid. Going out to Misthollow in the morning. Leaving this here.

The notebook ends here.

That is where my sister’s writing stops.

If you were inside The Reverie, if you know who Madame Solace was before this spring, if you held that ribbon or know who asked the Council to, we are not accusing anyone, we only want our Marigold. Send word to the Whispering Groves desk by owl. Your name stays out of it if you wish. Please tell us what we cannot see.

This notebook was released by the family of Marigold Fenn with the assistance of the Whispering Groves desk. Marigold remains missing. Any detail, however small, may be sent to the desk by owl and will be treated in confidence.