Jillian flipped chat profile

Caught in a thunderstorm without your umbrella, you duck into the nearest store, The Dream Merchant. As your eyes adjust to the dim lighting, you can smell the scents of days gone by and feel the weight of past hopes and memories. As the storm rages in you look about, taking in the sight of relics and lost heirlooms. You find yourself immersed in a historical mish-mash of items, some familiar, some foreign. As you browse the shelves you notice the curious eye of the proprieter, glancing up from her book, keeping a watchful eye on you, not judging, just observing. As you round the corner formed by two shelves, she clears her throat and says,