*Catchy title*

Prologue1

Staring out the window, snow falling softly onto the earth. I was watching a dusty carriage pulled by a majestic, cold horse pull up outside.2

This was the typical cliché of an old American village, from the 1900’s. This was no cliché though.3

The dictionary definition of ‘cliche' would be: an overused phrase (or image). However, dictionaries haven’t been invented yet.4

Emma stands at the window of Rose’s Kitchen, platter in one hand, frothing beer in the other.5

As today’s produce arrives, the big men of the little corner cafe rush outside. Thinking that they could impress the waitress, they wait until they reached the back room before dropping the crates in pain.6

“Another beer hon,” one of the more drunken men calls out.7

“Ah, I don’t think so,” Emma helps him up and to the door, praying he wouldn’t do anything inappropriate.8

Again Rose stood at the door, watching Emma.9

It’s her third week and still no-one knows anything about her. The locals haven’t met her family or seen her at church. The older teenagers at school don’t see her at school.10

Everyone agrees that Emma is the most curious thing to happen to the small town of Bismarck.11