The aroma of fresh meat and bread filled the halls of Ravenclaw Keep. Yet to Evelyn, the kitchens were no longer a haven. She moved quietly through the people in it, her gaze nervously sweeping the books thrown carelessly on the table in the corner. Something about them had been troubling her for a couple of days; she couldn't quite explain the nagging suspicion.
"Again?" Lucy asked quietly next to her, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed. "You've been looking at those books every morning."
Evelyn shook her head. "Look at this." She pointed to the newest note, speaking softly. "Two containers of flour were written down for the week. But only one was brought here yesterday."
Lucy frowned slightly. "Maybe it was a mistake."
Evelyn turned a few pages back. "It's happened more than once. Salt, oil, dried meat—it happens over and over. Small variations. Enough to not even notice if you're not really paying attention."
