Yep.
A fucking disaster.
Chapter Two
The library was Wren McCoy’s favorite kind of quiet. Not the hollow, lonely quiet she remembered from high school nights, when her identical twin sister, Lark, stayed over at her best friend’s house, and their shared bedroom felt too big, too still…too dark.
No, this was a living quiet. A breathing one, with the soft hum of fluorescent lights, the whisper of pages turning, and the occasional creak of old wooden floors as someone shifted their weight in the history aisle.
It was peaceful and predictable.
Wren slid the last returned book into place, aligning the spine just so. She sighed softly and stepped back, surveying the shelf.
“Five minutes until closing,” she called out, her voice gentle but carrying just enough to reach the handful of remaining patrons.
A teenager, Austin Crenshaw, sat at one of the computers. He lifted his hand in acknowledgement without looking away from his screen. No doubt scrambling madly to finish his homework.
Mrs. Donnelly—who came in every Thursday like clockwork—gave Wren a warm smile and tucked the novel she’d checked out into her oversized purse.
Routine. Order. Calm. Wren thrived on all three.
Which was precisely why the sharp, sudden bang of the front door slamming open made her entire body jolt.
Her heart leapt to her throat as she spun toward the entrance, bracing for chaos.
Chaos with a name.
“Wren!”
Lark.
Only her sister could turn a quiet library into a rock concert.
Wren pressed her lips together, fighting the automatic smile that threatened whenever Lark made an appearance. Even when she wanted to be annoyed—and she did, because honestly, who bursts into a library like that?—Lark had a way of brightening her day.
“Inside voice,” Wren said, even though she could see the other patrons were amused as well.
Lark winced, then grinned, undeterred. She lowered her voice…slightly. “Sorry, Mrs. Donnelly. Austin. Emergency.”
Of course it was. Wren snickered. Because emergencies were as common as Mondays in Lark’s world.
Wren walked to the front desk, wiggling her mouse to wake up the computer screen so she could shut it down. “I’m closing.”
“I know, I know.” Lark bounced on the balls of her feet, nervous energy vibrating from every pore. “I just need a minute. Please?”
“Fine. Let me do a couple of things first.”
Austin, the sweetheart, had already shut down his computer as well as the other three along the wall. He waved goodbye. “See you tomorrow, Wren.” He walked out at the same time as Mrs. Donnelly.
“Bye, Wren, Lark,” Giles Hawkins said, suddenly appearing from behind the shelf way in the back. He was always the last patron to leave. Wren followed, locking the door behind him.
She had a closing routine, and with Lark hovering and looking desperate, it was a sure bet she was going to forget to do something.
Wren turned off the main bank of lights, leaving the one that illuminated the circulation desk on. Then she gestured for her sister to join her behind the desk, where there were two office chairs. Wren sank down heavily, because Lark was giving her that look.
The one that said her sister was about to ask for something.
The one that almost always ended in Wren saying yes.
