Before heading over to the only real grown up person in the room as far as I could tell, I studied The Munsters a bit more, puzzled by their red Rudolph noses. The mounted rats Rock, Paper — er, Paper, Scissors, Rock — I think — represented a riddle too, a cypher. Better ask the Grandma about it. If this was such person.
I approached. “Grandma?” I tested.
“Tessa,” she corrected in a wavering voice. “You’re looking in the wrong place.”
Sunklands 