The bookstore had always felt like a place where nothing harsh could reach me.
Light spilled through tall windows, dust drifting lazily in the air, and the scent of old paper wrapped everything in a quiet kind of comfort. It was the one job that never drained me. It gave me space to breathe.
Until the day a girl walked in and changed all of that.
She moved differently from the others. Hoodie pulled low, shoulders tight, a backpack hanging heavier than it should have. I noticed her immediately—not because she stood out, but because she was trying so hard not to.