The shop seemed unusually quiet.
Ashley sat hunched over her sketchpad, pencil smudges staining her fingertips.
She hadn't had a single customer all day. Not a random walk-in, not even one of the brothers who usually dropped by to escape the clubhouse. The silence should've felt like a break—no questions, no stares, no one waiting for her to mess up. But instead, it only made her more on edge.
Every time the doorbell rang, her stomach jumped. She kept thinking it would be Ramirez. Or worse... Nolan, ready to press her about the detective.
But it never was.
It was nobody.
The bell never rang. The shop stayed empty. Still, Ashley couldn't shake the feeling of eyes on her, crawling up her spine.
She even got up once to check the window. It was just a drunk moving down t
