There was a trail nearby, lined with trees, with houses that butted up against the trail here and there. They walked a quarter mile or so down it, and Wes stopped at a house with a wrought iron fence. The fence was carefully woven with thick, woody vines. Little bunches of grapes grew on both sides of the fence, like an offering to passersby. Wes took a few with a smile, and Zoey followed suit.
"Ooh, these are good!"
Wes nodded, "I spoke to the lady that lives here like a year ago, she said it's okay. They did this on purpose."
"They?"
"Mhmm. Look." He reached through the fence and ran his fingers along a section of one vine. Zoey realized it was a pair of vines woven through the length of the fence, growing together, carefully interlaced. His fingers lingered on a carving just inside
