“I won't,” Emery called after her.
Domi paused, hand on the doorknob. “You know, there's one thing I've always admired about Emerald Pearl's books, they never shy away from the grand gesture. When all seems lost, her heroines fight for love.” She looked pointedly atEmery. “Perhaps the author could learn something from her characters.”
After Domi left, Emery stared at the envelope, her own words trapped inside.
“She's right, you know,” Jax said quietly.
Emery shook her head. “It doesn't matter. Some stories don't get happy endings.”
She pushed the envelope away.
???
Eveline moved through The Turned Page with mechanical precision, shelving books with the same care she always had, helping customers with the same professional courtesy. But the light had gone out of her eyes.
“Excuse me,” a young woman asked, “but do you have any Emerald Pearl books? They used to be right at the front.”
“Back corner,” Eveline said shortly, not looking up from the invoice she was checking. “Far left.”
The woman looked confused. “But I thought—”
“Back corner,” Eveline said again, her tone making it clear the conversation was over.
When the customer had wandered away, Zara approached cautiously. “We've had five people ask about the romance section today,” she said. “Maybe we should put up a sign?”
“If you think it necessary,” Eveline said.
Zara fidgeted with her sleeve. “Eveline, don't you think maybe we should talk about what happened? About Emery—”
“There is nothing to discuss.” Eveline's voice was ice. “She lied. For weeks. End of story.”
“But—”
“Please check the new arrivals and make sure they're properly cataloged,” Eveline said, turning away.
The shop bell jingled, and Maya bustled in with her usual bakery box. “Good morning, my darlings,” she called. “I've brought cinnamon rolls. Fresh from the oven.”
“Thank you, but I'm not hungry,” Eveline said, not pausing in her work.
Maya set the box on the counter anyway, hovering nearby as Eveline continued organizing a stack of invoices, deliberately ignoring her presence.
“You look tired,” Maya ventured after a moment of awkward silence.
Eveline said nothing, her fingers mechanically sorting papers.
“I visited Abe yesterday,” Maya tried again. “He was asking about the shop. About you.” She paused. “About Emery.” She took a breath. “I didn’t tell him anything.”
At the mention of that name, Eveline's hands stilled momentarily before continuing their task, her face a carefully constructed mask.
“The doctors think he might be able to come home next week, if his improvement continues,” Maya said.
“That's good news,” said Eveline. She moved away from the counter to adjust a display of new releases, putting physical distance between herself and the conversation.
Maya followed, undeterred. “Eveline, darling, you can't keep bottling everything up like this. It's not healthy.”
No response.
“Everyone's worried about you. You're not eating, barely sleeping from the looks of it. And whatever happened with—”
