Dawn came pale and cool. Mist lay over the fields. Maya thanked Ruth for porridge, tied back her hair, and walked with the iron key. Eli and the dog ran ahead. The shed waited under the maple. The lock turned and the door opened. Dust rose in the morning light. She mapped the space. Counter here. Shelf there.

She found a worn broom and began to sweep. Each stroke made a stripe of clean floor. She lifted loose stones and stacked them by the entrance. She checked the walls and pressed fingers into the gaps. Clay would seal them. Straw would soften the wind. She pictured jars with tight lids and price marks anyone could read.

Eli brought a basket from Ruth. Rope. Two nails. A rag. He said Jonas would lend more once the headman saw progress. Maya wrote a list with charcoal. Patch roof. Seal wall. Build shelf. Make sign. Ask for salt and soap on consignment. Trade bread for first stock. She added rules from her old store. A bowl for lost items. A place for returns. A ledger for names.

By midmorning a few townsfolk gathered. Maya said this would be a market for common goods with steady prices. No haggling at the well. A boy climbed the maple and dropped branches. Maya tied them into a better broom and promised him a bun.

Jonas came with a short ladder. He marked rent and said the headman would visit at sunset. If the shed stayed clean and the rules held, more help would follow. Maya asked to gather first stock before rent. Jonas said yes if she kept a ledger. Pay twice if you forget, he warned.

Light rain began. Maya climbed the ladder and pressed straw into the holes. She set two boards across a sagging beam and tied them tight. The drops slowed. The room grew calm. It felt like a place that could hold a day.

Ruth arrived with soup and news. Two traders were near. One carried salt. One sold soap. Maya drew the word Open on a board and leaned it by the maple with an arrow toward the door. She set a flat stone inside as a coin plate and folded ribbon for markers.

The salt cart rattled up first. Maya asked for five small sacks at a price families could pay over time. She showed the ribbon plan. Five knots meant full price. Each payment cut one knot. When none remained the debt was clear. The trader agreed to try with one sack and tied his mark to the ribbon. She set the sack on a low shelf and wrote the price on a strip of wood.

The soap man came later with bars wrapped in cloth. He named a high price. Maya did not argue. She asked to test the bars at the well until sunset. If people liked them she would buy the lot tomorrow. If not she would keep two bars and return the rest. He saw the small crowd and left ten bars on the counter.

Eli brought two cats. They stalked the walls with bright eyes. One curled on the shelf like a guarding stone. Maya laughed for the first time since the street and felt the knot in her chest loosen. She placed a bowl of water by the door and a note in charcoal. Tell me what you need, and I will try to find it.

People stepped inside and touched the price strips. A father traced the word for salt while his son drew a leaf beside it. A weaver asked for needles. A farmer asked for oil. Maya wrote both in the ledger. Soon the crowd explained the ribbon plan for her.

Near sunset the headman arrived in a cloak the color of bark. He walked the floor and asked what she called this place. Maya said a simple market for everyone. He pressed wax on the doorframe and set his mark. Trade here, the seal read in clear lines.

He asked one more question. What would she do when the first debt went bad. Maya said she would ask what had happened. If a bad harvest, she would carry the debt one season. If deceit, she would end the account. The headman nodded.

Night came fast. Maya locked the door and gave the key to Ruth. The fields smelled of wet grass. Her arms ached from the ladder and the broom. Tomorrow she would sell the first measure of salt.