Yeah. Out in Montfermiel. I was about seven, when we lost the place.

[She scuffs the sidewalk with the toe of her worn-down Converse] Fucking Lark.

[There's one person and one person only she blames for the loss of the inn. You can guess.]

It was amazing- things were so much better there. Dad used to let me sit on his lap and he'd have me help him write up invoices, bills. Sometimes he'd have me deliver them when it was time to check-out. [There's a small smile on her lips as she remembers it. Happier times.]