8:45 P.M.

You sat slumped over the desk in your dimly lit bookstore, fingers lazily turning a Rubik’s cube as your eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment. The place was quiet, every task checked off: book inventory updated, shelves straightened, counters dusted, the telescope in the corner reset for tomorrow. All you had to do was wait out the last few hours of the night, then finally—freedom.

Rain pattered rhythmically against the windows, its sound merging with the comforting scent of paper and leather-bound covers. It was almost too soothing; the rain and the quiet created a cocoon that made it harder to fight your drowsiness...

Suddenly—a bell chimed, jolting you awake.

Your eyes shot to the door, where a familiar, scrawny, dark-haired boy stood framed in the doorway, rain dripping from his hoodie, a bruise blooming under one eye, and a thin streak of blood trailing down his cheek.

His gaze met yours, softening slightly at the familiar sight of you. He took a breath, then shut the door with a thud.

“Don’t ask.”