Everyone will notice. And the moment that happens?—
She stops being hidden. She becomes a target. My hands curl into fists at my sides as I walk. Because the truth is settling in whether I like it or not. Avoiding her was supposed to protect her. Keeping distance was supposed to keep things contained. But with rogues circling and watchers tracking every move?—
Distance is starting to look like the biggest vulnerability of all. And I don’t know how much longer I can pretend otherwise.
11
TESSA
The bell above the bookstore door hasn’t stopped ringing for the last hour.
I’m smiling so much my cheeks ache, watching the space fill with people—real people, not just polite drop-ins or curious passersby. Locals I’m starting to recognize. Couples. Families. A pair of tourists clutching iced coffees and asking if this place used to be a bakery.
“It did,” I tell them. “Long before my time.”
Delilah glides past me carrying a tray of paper cups filled with mulled cider, her silver bracelets chiming softly with every movement. “And now it’s better,” she says warmly, offering drinks like she’s hosting a private salon instead of a bookstore reopening.
The scent of cinnamon and old paper mixes in the air. Someone laughs near the poetry section. A teenager flips through a stack of graphic novels like they’ve found buried treasure.
It’s working. God, it’s actually working.
I exhale slowly, steadying myself against the flood of relief threatening to overwhelm me. For the first time since I gothere, Redwood Crossing doesn’t feel like a gamble. It feels like… possibility.
The bell rings again. I glance up—and my breath catches. Archer.
He steps inside like he doesn’t belong to the same world as the rest of us. The noise doesn’t touch him. The warmth doesn’t soften him. He scans the room in one sweeping motion, eyes sharp, posture alert.
Not browsing. Not visiting. Assessing.
He doesn’t come to me right away. Instead, he moves slowly along the perimeter of the shop, his presence quiet but unmistakable. A couple near the door instinctively shifts aside as he passes. He nods to someone—one of the older men from the hardware store, I think—then pauses near the front windows.
Watching. Always watching.
I step out from behind the counter. “Enjoying the party?” I call lightly.
His gaze snaps to mine. For just a second, something soft flickers there. Then it’s gone.
“Just making sure everything’s… running smoothly,” he says.
That pause. That careful choice of words.
I cross my arms. “It is. You don’t have to stand guard.”
“Habit.”
Before I can push further, Delilah appears at my side like she’s been summoned by tension alone.
“Archer’s always been like this,” she says, offering him a knowing smile. “Our unofficial protector.”
I blink. “Protector?”
Archer exhales sharply. “Don’t start.”
But Delilah only lifts one shoulder. “It’s true. Ever since he was young, he’s taken responsibility for this town. For the people in it.”
Something shifts in my chest—curiosity, yes, but something deeper too. Something that recognizes the weight behind his silence.
“You make it sound like he’s a superhero,” I say.
